


Second Chances

by RZZMG



Series: Hermione x Draco stories [18]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Attempted Sexual Assault, Breeding, Divorcee!Hermione, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Infidelity, Loss of Virginity, Magical Creatures, Mating, Minor Character Death, Pregnancy, QuidditchPlayer!Rose, SexGod!Scorpius, Veela - Other Characters, Veela Draco, Veela Lucius, Veela Scorpius, Widowed!Draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 64,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/pseuds/RZZMG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius Malfoy comes into his Veela birth heritage at the age of 25, and seeks out his mate, Rose Weasley. But his childhood rival is not so easily tamed! At the same time, Draco Malfoy has decided to take a second mate with the death of his wife, Astoria, and he's waited a long time to have the witch of his dreams. Will divorcee Hermione Granger be amicable to his suit? Resolves are tested and wills clash. Secrets from the past threaten to tear lovers apart. Challengers to the mating get set to interfere. Can these two couples succeed at a second chance at love and break a curse that has haunted the Malfoy men for centuries?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Casualty of Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> This was Lady Serpentina's FIC CHALLENGE to me. Here was her criteria:
> 
> 1) A possessive Veela Scorpius.  
> 2) Post Hogwarts - to make the challenge more interesting. How they meet each other again is up to you.  
> 3) This fic has to be rated mature. I love your smutty graphic scenes!  
> 4) Rose's parents are divorced - Sorry I can't stand Hermione and Ron together.  
> 5) A possibility between Dramione - come on, their kids aren't even blood related.  
> 6) An innocent kiss  
> 7) "Merlin's hairy balls," phrase is to be mentioned at least four times.  
> 8) A revealing dream about the future.  
> 9) Rose gets bitten in three different places due to Scorpius' courting-veela standards  
> 10) If Rose is Scorpius' mate, then you know what that means... Rose can't fall easily for Scorpius' Malfoy charms, she can respond to his "accidental" physical touches, but she'd be against it till she is convinced Scorpius is what she wants and needs - she's to be stubborn and deny everything that's changing her perfectly planned life, this is Hermione's daughter after all. Scorpius must convince her he's what she needs. How long the story is, is up to you. :)
> 
> \--------------------------------  
> Revision 1.0 – 10 June, 2010 (on Fanfiction.net)  
> Revision 2.0 – begun December, 2014  
> \--------------------------------
> 
> TIMELINE: Begins June 2031 (NextGen - Post-Hogwarts, Epilogue compliant)
> 
> EXTRA NOTES:  
> For the record, there is exactly 26 years (25 + some number of months) between Lucius Malfoy (born 1954) & Draco Malfoy (born 1980) and between Draco Malfoy (born 1980) & Scorpius Malfoy (born 2006). It's a weird coincidence that I capitalized on for this fic to make it work.
> 
> The motorcycle in question in this fic was Sirius Black's, which he willed to Harry in HP canon. I didn't invent it.
> 
> Also, please keep in mind that when Scorpius mentions 'Potter' or 'Zabini', he's not talking about Harry Potter or Blaise Zabini, but their children, Albus Severus Potter and Marcus Zabini (an original character for this fic). And remember that when Rose refers to 'Malfoy', she's not talking about Draco, but Scorpius. We're so used to reading the HP world from Harry's generation's POV that it's easy to forget that NextGen would use the same names, but be referring to the children their own age, not the parents of Harry's gen. I just wanted to clarify that as I've received some PMs from readers of revision 1.0 regarding the issue.
> 
> PHOTOS of the characters as I envision them can be seen here: http://s905.photobucket.com/user/RZZMG/library/Second%20Chances?sort=6&page=1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius Malfoy's dreaded 25th birthday is upon him, and the secret family curse is about to strike. Who will his inner Veela pick for his mate?

 

_**CHAPTER 1: CASUALTY OF DESTINY** _

_**Saturday, June 21st, 2031 (night)** _

This was the worst birthday ever. No presents. No cake. No guests. No fancy party clothes. No riotous celebration with Firewhisky. No bint to suck him off, as had been Scorpius' favorite birthday tradition since he'd reached the age of legal adulthood. Nothing to be considered 'fun' was allowed to mark his turning a quarter-century old today.

What he  _had_  been treated to was a bath filled with foul smelling herbs that made him repeatedly sneeze, greasy oils that made his hair slick and limp, and sitting alone for two soul-sucking hours in silence in quickly cooling water, supposedly for meditation purposes. He hadn't even been allowed to wank away his frustrations; his father had expressly forbidden the act, stating it would put a kink in the special ceremony to come later that night.

He was turning a corner tonight, and his life would never be the same.

As he sat on the edge of his bed now, wearing what looked like some sort of homo-erotic toga from out of ancient  _fucking_  Greece, Scorpius' prick remained semi-erect because he hadn't taken care of his "little problem" in a few days. He wished to Slytherin that he could have at least been allowed a stiff drink in each hand and a cold towel for the back of his neck! He was so juiced he could kick-start Potter's motorcycle – the one his old man had given him when the guy had turned seventeen.

He'd been dreading today since he'd been ten-years-old, when his father had sat him down and briefly explained his cursed heritage to him. Unfortunately, the cocksucker hadn't told his son any of the important shite – like what being a male Veela _actually_  meant for his future. Now that previously nebulous dread was ballooning into a full-blown, almost tangible panic attack as he imagined all sorts of horrific scenarios behind his eyelids, most of them having to do with developing a fatal allergic reaction to alcohol and pussy after his Transition had completed.

He sighed and cracked open his peepers to check the clock over the mantle. It was just past eleven.  _Hurry the fuck up_ , he swore at the timepiece, as if it had the ability to magically respond.  _I want this over with, one way or the other!_

At exactly forty-two past eleven that night, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was destined to come into his Veela birthright. His internal beast would fully "awaken" finally, according to his dad, and he would not only go through a physical and magical alteration, but he'd also know from some funky vision-dream he'd experience during the third phase of the change his mate's identity – just as his father had known when it had been his time, and his father before him, and his father before him,  _ad infinitum_.

Hurrah. Like being tied to some vapid shrew with an expensive shoe habit would be the most joyous event of his life.

Gods be damned, he wanted to be anyone but himself right then! Even swapping bodies with his best mate, Marcus Zabini (who Scorpius often razzed as having been hit with the ugly stick one too many times as a child) would be preferable to his fate!

It was all the fault of some long-forgotten ancestor named Theodosis. Because of the guy's amazingly over-inflated sense of importance and merely out of spite, that sodding bastard had ruined their family's station in society and had cursed his entire lineage as a result (like  _that_  was something extraordinary for the Malfoys to do). The dark death-and-blood magic that the man's Veela mate had used to curse him to get even for years of his senseless cruelty towards her had resulted in a generational "affliction": every Malfoy heir from Theodosis' son on down would suffer a Veela growing within them and bonding to them upon their twenty-fifth year of life. The curse would not only force them to endure the pain of physically, magically, and emotionally changing to adapt to the Veela's presence, but also of mating a woman in the male Veela tradition. The Malfoy heir would never be free to choose his own witch for wife, like normal wizards, nor would he ever be able to reproduce otherwise. With his mate, he would only ever bear sons, never daughters, and the curse would never be broken until one of the Malfoy line could figure out a way to separate the man from the beast – an impossible feat that had twice been attempted in the history of the family by some truly desperate wizards, and both times had ended in their deaths.

Tonight, Scorpius was going to join that celebrated, horrid tradition, losing out on his well-enjoyed bachelorhood.

Okay, sure, the mate-bonding thing that Veelas had going for them assured that the Malfoy lineage never died out. A plus, right? Ancestral longevity was guaran- _fucking_ -teed – something the family patriarchs were positively thrilled over. Then there was the bonus of the fantastic sex, thanks to the Veela allure. The beautiful, magically-powerful creatures were the incubi of the world, and fucking one's life mate was supposedly the greatest high a man could ever achieve, even more so than imbibing any potion or chewing any mushroom passed through the hands of those half-baked hippie wizarding communes living in mountain caves somewhere in Tibet.

Another wonderful gift of the Veela enchantment was that the male heirs and their wives would live twice the average lifespan of a normal human through the blood-bond of the mating, barring any unnatural calamity such as suicide, fatal accident or murder. The oldest Malfoy on record, Brutus, had made it to one hundred and ninety-years old before his tired body had finally given out.

Yet, despite such wondrous perks there were two critically significant sticking points to the whole deal: First, there was nothing in the fine print of that centuries old magical contract that guaranteed a Malfoy's mate would ever fall in love with him; lust, yes, but love… not necessarily. Hell, it didn't even promise she'd like him enough to want him to make regular visits to her bed. Second, the mating assured neither partner would sexually want anyone else physically until the bond was broken by death. The surviving mate could then take another mate if he or she wished – but had to wait until his next quarter-century milestone to perform the ritual again.

So, basically, if he ended up with an aggro-moose that he despised and who locked him out of her knickers, Scorpius was stuck with the lairy slag until she died – which could be a very long time, if she lived out her natural life at his side. If she died sometime in the interim, he might be able to try his luck a second time – but by then, he might be an old man with a limp dick!

Merlin's hairy balls, he was fucked. He was facing down the green of one giant craps shoot and praying for a seven. What if he made the dog throw and the dice came up snake-eyes, though? That would be just his luck, wouldn't it?

"I hate this. I hate us. I hate this whole fucking thing," he spat at the figure standing a few feet away, feeling rather spiteful at that moment.

His father turned from his purview of the darkened front lawns to stare back at him with sincere regret. At fifty-one years old, Draco Malfoy looked no older than thirty. He was still as attractive now as he had been twenty years ago. His mother, Astoria, would have shared the same fate, had she not died in a tragic Floo accident four months after Scorpius' twelfth birthday.

"I know. All I can say is that I'm sorry, my son," his father replied.

Scorpius snarled. "Right. Grandfather's sorry for ruining our family's reputation by following a madman all those years ago, you're sorry for mum's death, and I'm sorry for ever being born into this godforsaken family. Guess that makes us all even." He barked a laugh. "Oh, but let's not forget good ol', dead-and-free Theodosis – he  _isn't_  sorry for getting us into this sausage to start, so he can go frig his ghostly self as far as I'm concerned. Bloody wanker."

A deep, disgusted sigh was expelled from the other resident-in-waiting hanging around his rooms. "Oh, do get over yourself, Scorpius. This is your duty. Every Malfoy male has had to endure the same thing for generations. You're not unique, boy."

Scorpius sneered into the shadows where he knew his grandfather, Lucius, preferred to skulk. "You may be right, but being forced to become a breeding stud for a Veela isn't my idea of a life, especially not for  _this_  family."

He knew he'd gone too far, but he also knew neither man in the room would lift a wand or hand to him on this of all nights. It was too important for him to have his vision of the future. He'd pay for it probably tomorrow in a good tongue-lashing from Lucius, though. He could practically see the promise behind his grandfather's narrowed, cold eyes.

"How close are we to this  _thing_  happening?" he growled, feeling one big bundle of crackling frustration.

His father reached into his robes and pulled out an ancient pocket watch. "Less than half an hour. You need to finish the prep." He crossed the space and summoned their most trusted house-elf, Barnham, with a simple calling of his name. The elder creature popped into the room, magically hovering in the air around him a pre-arranged pitcher of some sort of liquid and a hand rinsing bowl, as well as small towels and a wooden, rectangular box.

Scorpius had already endured the bathing ritual earlier, and he still felt underdressed and rather vulnerable in this weird one-piece he had been forced to wear. "What's it this time?" he groaned in protest, taking in the new elements floating in the air. "More herbs, scented oils, and girly hair washing on the agenda?"

Draco shook his head and turned to direct the house-elf in placing the accoutrements on a bedside table. When he was done, his father dismissed the elf and waved his wand over the door for privacy. He then dimmed the lights even further, until they were just a glimmer in the near dark. Only the moon shining down from the wide cathedral window over the bed and from the French doors on the other side of the room provided light to see by. His father poured what looked like clear water from the pitcher into the wide-bottomed bowl next to it. He then stepped back and looked over his shoulder to his own father, apparently seeking approval. Lucius nodded, but said nothing.

Scorpius was suddenly very nervy. Warily, he watched and waited.

"Dip your hands in this, Scor," his father bid, indicating the bowl. "For purity's sake."

Stepping forward, Scorpius looked down into the bottom of the clear receptacle and saw an eerie shadow of a reflection in the water. He raised his hands and tipped them into the liquid, immediately feeling a warming effect. He gasped, pulled his hands away, and vigorously shook them to get the water off.

"It won't hurt you," his father promised. "It's only water with some herbs and oils in it, like you guessed."

Reaching for a towel, Scorpius wiped his hands, still feeling the oily residue on his skin; it left his hands silky and soft. He threw the towel down and stepped away, annoyed. "Can we just get this over with already?"

"Lie back in your bed," his father instructed, keeping his distance.

Scorpius complied, but kept a wary eye out on the elder Malfoys. What was going on?

Draco looked once more at his father and tilted his chin, to indicate Lucius should wait outside. With a nod, Scorpius' grandfather left. He knew the old man wouldn't be far, however; he was always slithering around in the shadows.

"Do you want to tell me what the bloody hell I can expect?" Scorpius snarled in annoyance.

His father looked very tired all of the sudden. "If you'd give me the opportunity." He ran well-manicured hands through his long bangs, pushing them off his forehead and sighed. "There are three parts to the Transition. The first is called the 'Manifestation'. Your magical aura and that of the Veela merge, to make you equals sharing one body. You'll gain some abilities and lose others."

"The second is the 'Emergence,' where your physical body is altered. You're remade inside and out. You'll look the same, but you'll be physically tougher, you'll have greater endurance, your cell growth will slow so you won't age at the normal rate, and your immune system will be stronger. This is so you'll be able to protect your mate against all threats during your lives together. You'll also have control of your glands and your other… changed parts… so you can properly mark your mate as Veela do."

" _Changed_   _parts?!"_ Scorpius asked, feeling slightly panicked at the implication. "You'll explain that bit to me later, yeah?"

His father nodded. "No need to fret, son. Male Veela aren't like the females – we don't change into bird-like harpies. We're more like… fallen angels. It's actually rather cool. And yes, I'll answer every question you'll have, just as my father did for me."

Although his father's answer was a relief, somehow it still didn't translate into confidence. Scorpius let it pass, however. He was already agitated and ready to snap. The last thing he needed was to find out the nasty particulars of mating. Later, he'd handle that part later. Right now, he had to focus on just getting through the night. His actual transformation sounded like it was going to suck.

"The final stage of the ritual is the 'Presentation,' where the Veela will give you a vision of your Bond Mate," his father continued his explanation. "This is called 'opening your Third Eye.' You'll see her face in the bowl of water, and both be able to feel and scent her magic in the air. With your enhanced senses, and a firm fix on what she looks like, you'll then be able to find your ideal mate anywhere in the world. You'll use your physical, pheromonal and magically enhanced attributes to bind her to you once you have her." His lips twisted in a mocking smirk. "You'll have to court her with your human charms if you want her to be a willing participant, though. That's not something the Veela has the disposition to accomplish. They're all about breeding, and lack a certain romantic flair."

"Sounds like this is going to be the shites from A to Z," Scorpius stated, a bitter frown on his lips.

His father shrugged. "The third part's not so bad." He pursed his lips, considering his next words with care. "I'm not going to lie, son. The Transition is a very personal experience. Every Veela male undergoes it differently. During the first and second stages, it was very,  _very_  painful for me. It was like shards of glass were being shoved directly into my nerves at first, then like I was being torn in two. I begged for death." He shuddered. "My father's experience was entirely different, however. He explained it as feeling like being hooked on powerful potions for drug inhibition  _and_  acceleration – like he was flying and falling at the same time and couldn't make the sensation stop until it was over. And his father, Abraxas, was extremely violent and angry. His room was trashed by the time the third stage took him." He shut his eyes. "How you handle your Transition will shape your future, son. It will shape what kind of man you will be for the remainder of your living years. Try to get through it with courage and fortitude."

Scorpius' eyebrows were in his hairline and his pulse sped up. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

His father shook his head. "I wish I could take this from you, but I can't. This is your personal test of fire, Scor. Everyone has to pass through one at some point in their lives… some of us more than once." That sarcastic, acrimonious smirk was back on Draco's handsome face. "In any case, you need to be prepared for anything during the first and second stages. The third stage–"

Here his father faltered, and heat crept up his cheeks to bloom cherry red against his pale skin. Even in the dim lighting, his father's embarrassment practically glowed. Draco cleared his throat and tried again. "The third stage will require you to, ah, engage in–" He paused again, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "You're going to have to… pleasure yourself." He pointedly looked at the ceramic vessel Scorpius had earlier dipped his hands into. "Into that."

If Scorpius thought he couldn't be any more flabbergasted after the earlier revelations, he was clearly quite mistaken. "You want me to come in a bowl full of noxious smelling stuff? How sanitary can that be? And why the hell for?"

Rolling his eyes and  _tsk_ -ing in annoyance, his father crossed to the arrangement in question and poured more of the water from the pitcher into the basin. "You're just going to do it, and you're  _going_  to cut yourself with this knife," he withdrew a silver blade from the wooden box brought in with the other items. "Over the pad of your left thumb. You'll let three drops of your blood fall into the mix, and then you're then going to swirl it all together with your cut hand, open up your Third Eye, and see the vision of your mate in here. The mating magic requires your blood, your seed, and your magical energy as a sacrifice to work. If you botch it up, you'll be unable to find her." He turned very grave then, his features a grim mask. "A mate is the greatest joy you will ever know, my son. It's a  _terrible_  thing to lose her – even if it's just losing the chance of finding her. Don't ruin this opportunity. Take it seriously."

A heavy pressure suddenly settled in Scorpius' chest, leaving him feeling very vulnerable, like he was twelve all over again and being called out of class to be told his mother had died. "What if she's all wrong for me, dad? What if she's a horrible person? I don't want to get stuck in a bad marriage."

A rare, small smile graced his father's perfectly sculpted lips. "The magic will pick the best match for your character. It knows who is right for you. It's never wrong, even if it seems it at first."

Scorpius swallowed his pride to ask the one question he'd always been afraid to after his mother's funeral. "Was mum your perfect match?"

Draco chuckled. "She was exactly the woman I needed then, although at first, I couldn't stand to be around her. I thought she was the typical pure-blood princess – shallow, vain. You know the type."

Scorpius nodded. He, too, couldn't stand most of the women in his social class, as all they tended to consider important were shopping trips, parties, and gossip.

"Our courtship was slower than normal, because neither of us wanted to be tied to the other. It was three months before I bound her to me," his father continued. "Mostly it was the mating magic and my Veela forcing both of our hands to finish it. I'm ashamed to say that you weren't conceived with romance in mind, son. During the pregnancy, though, that's when I saw what kind of woman she really was underneath the pretense. She was thoughtful, considerate, open-minded, and supportive. The war had left me scarred, inside and out. Astoria helped me come to terms with my inner demons, and I loved her for it." He wistfully smiled. "Your mother taught me how to look at a person's qualities, not their deficits. She changed my world outlook. I became a better person just by knowing her. I hope your mate will bring you the same comfort." A mischievous grin swept across his face then, lighting it with youthful exuberance, and he waggled his eyebrows once. "Best case scenario, I'm hoping for a grandson in nine months."

Scorpius felt the heat in his cheeks. To distract his stray, lusty thoughts, he glanced over at the clock. "Whoa… four minutes left!"

His father checked his pocket watch again. "Guess you'd better lay back now." He approached the bed, standing over his son as Scorpius slipped under the fine satin covers. "I'll stand watch for the first two stages, to make sure you don't hurt yourself. I'll leave you at the onset of the third stage." He cut off Scorpius' obvious question with a wave of his hand. "You won't be able to miss it when it happens – you'll get as hard as a rock. Trust me. Just make sure you capture as much of your… stuff… in your hands and quickly get it into the bowl. The more you have, the better the vision. Then cut your left thumb, left to right across the pad – it hurts less that way and heals quicker. Three drops of blood, let it soak in with the… with your jizz. Then swirl it clockwise while staring into the bowl and you'll fall into a trance-like state. You'll open your Third Eye simply by staring – it's instinctual and automatic, without any thought or effort on your part. The magic will summon the vision. Just mark your mate's face with your mind. You'll already know her, as you'll at least have crossed paths once in your life. When you do that, call for me and I'll come back here."

Scorpius took a deep breath. "Easy, yeah?"

Draco arched one golden eyebrow. "We'll see."

"Ever the optimist, that's my dad."

He had just a moment to hear his father's wish of good luck, and then pain screamed through Scorpius' brain, slamming into him like a two-tonne steam engine on full-tilt. He shrieked in agony, felt his father grip his hand, and then there was nothing but blinding, white hot pain that seemed endless.


	2. Casualty of Infatuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose reconnects with an old flame, Corwin McLaggen, Scorpius Malfoy's sexy cousin.
> 
> Hermione sends her daughter a note to get ready for a meeting with the Malfoys for a purpose unknown.
> 
> Rose's mum is acting weird.

_**CHAPTER 2: CASUALTY OF INFATUATION** _

_**Saturday, June 21st, 2031 (night)** _

The thumping bass of the music roared through Rose's veins as she ground her arse against her date's pelvis in time to the beat.

Corwin McLaggen, Keeper of the Montrose Magpies and arch rival to her own team, the Holyhead Harpies, was a  _master_  hottie. He was the epitome of everything she found sexy in a man: short blond hair that was as soft as an angel's wings, blue-grey eyes that glimmered with lust, pouty lips that begged for kissing, and a hard, firm body that made her ache with want. Although the two had an on-again, off-again flirtation back in school years prior, she'd never had him.

She intended upon rectifying that short-sightedness tonight.

Cor's rough, strong hands gripped her hips and pulled her in tighter, letting her feel his raging erection surging against her bum. Wrapping his arms about her waist, he pressed his wicked mouth to her ear and made her the offer she'd been hoping for: to go back to his place for an evening of fun.

Quickly nodding, Rose took his hand and led him off the dance floor, signaling her best girlfriends across the room—Eleri Nott, Holly and Shannon Finnigan, Alicia Longbottom, and her cousins, Lucy and Lily—that she intended on splitting for the night. The Finnigan twins both gave her the thumbs up, Alicia toasted her with a shot of some clear liquid before tossing it back, Lucy grinned, and Lily happily waved her bye-bye as she headed towards the loo.

The only detractor was, unsurprisingly, Eleri. Her best friend, who was dancing right then with Rose's cousins, Albus and Louis, took one look at Rose's partner and scowled at him in disapproval.

Rose laughed at her girlfriend's reaction, as it was a well-known fact that El and Corwin had been as antagonistic towards each other back during their school days as Rose and Scorpius Malfoy had been (El would often referred to Cor as "Gryffindor's Quidditch knob' and he'd fire back something to the effect that she was a gold digger and only after lolly). Basically, there was no love lost between them.

 _"Bye!"_  she mouthed to Eleri, not letting her friend's prejudice sway her against what she had planned for tonight. She'd waited far too many years to be back in Corwin's arms.

Dragging her ad hoc date out of the club behind her with a grin and a shake of her head (as he glared over his shoulder at Eleri), they hit the Apparition point and Side-Along'd to Corwin's flat without further interruption.

They'd just barely they made it past his wards and inside before falling upon each other in a tangle of frantic hands and hungry kisses. The small scene at the club was instantly forgotten as their mouths and fingers sought skin any way they could find it.

The truth was that Rose had never dared anything like she was doing just then. She'd always been a "good girl", not wanting to disappoint her dad who believed the sun traveled its horizon just for her. Besides, her mother had always been rather strict about propriety, and it had been ingrained into her from a young age that proper ladies never "got around". In her twenty-five years, she'd only had two men in her bed, and both of them had been long term commitments, spanning over two years a piece. Tonight, though, she'd decided to take Lucy's advice and have fun at the club and to let her destiny take her where it may. She'd never in her wildest dreams thought she'd reconnect with Corwin there, much less that he'd be interested in going home with her.

Her heart beating with manic wings, she now partook of this fantasy-come-true with the one man who had made her wish she'd given up her virginity to him back when she was sixteen.

Cor's strong, calloused hands pushed up the fabric of her aqua-coloured dress. "Bloody hell, Rosie, I've always wanted this with you," he admitted on a groan as he discovered the edge of her thong and followed it around with his fingers. "Ever since our school days. You're so  _fucking_  hot, you know that?"

His words made Rose's heart flutter faster. Never had either of her two previous lovers referred to her as sexy. They'd been soft, comfortable men to date, mostly friends-with-benefits. Definitely not the burn-me-up-and-fuck-me-against-the-wall type of relationship that she'd always, secretly craved. Would Cor be the one to give that to her at long last?

Pressed hard against the wall in the entry of his home, she felt her would-be lover's clever fingers dip under the band of her knickers and slide into her welcoming slit. His touch was pure gold and his skill to where to touch and with exactly the right kind of pressure was almost magical. Gone was the shy, young boy who'd blushed as he'd danced with her during the Yule Ball; clearly, Corwin had become quite adept at handling and pleasing women over the years. He certainly knew what to do to make Rose desperate, anyway! She grew so wet from his attentions that her pussy made embarrassing squelching, sucking noises as he pumped his fingers in and out of her body.

High-pitched keening noises escaped the back of her throat as he pressed a third finger into her, and her nails dug small gouges into the plaster as he fucked her nice and slow with them. Her whole body tensed as the pleasure grew, bubbled over...

"That's it, Rosie. Come for me."

She tipped into ecstasy at his simple command, crying out as her body convulsed around his fingers and her core pulsed with liquid heat.

Only when her body had finally stopped convulsing did Cor move them deeper into his home, preparing to take things all the way.

Rose was carried in his big, burly arms to the couch, where she was laid back into the cushions. With a quick tug, her panties were ripped from her legs and with a fast pull her dress was over her head and tossed to the floor. Cor then knelt before her to take her all in.

He went silent and still.

When she glanced over to find out what was wrong, she was surprised to see the awe-struck look upon Corwin's face.

"Merlin almighty, you're  _gorgeous_ , Rosie! So beautiful." He looked into her eyes and brushed back the bangs from her face. "Ravenclaw smart, Hufflepuff caring, Slytherin sly, and Gryffindor brave. You're all of it in one—the perfect girl." He seemed to turn inward for a moment, murmuring to himself. "I always knew you were all those things when we were kids, but now that you're all grown up… Wow. Dad was right about the women in your family. You're different… special. You're it."

Rose turned her head to face him head-on. "'It'?"

He blinked, and for a moment, she could have sworn there was someone else staring back at her through Corwin's eyes. The moment passed, however, as he shifted to lean over her, and something in his face took on a more determined look. "You're gonna be mine," he told her with conviction, his blue eyes flashing with a possessive claim. "All mine after tonight."

His words made her heart tremble. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. At least, not that she could recall…

" _You're mine after this, Rose, you know? I'm keeping you."_

She blinked, confused for a moment as the memory of another voice—a disturbingly familiar voice she couldn't place—echoed down the long corridor of her mind, surfacing from the dark vault of forgotten moments in her life.

"Who-?" she started.

Corwin's laughter cut her off and his features softened with his amusement. "You, Rosie. I was talking to you. Who do you think I meant?"

Rose glanced left and right, realized where she was and who she was with, and that she'd been caught in another one of her weird daydreams again. Thankfully, this one had been short enough not to affect her mood too much.

During her last few days at Hogwarts, and in the months and years following graduation, she'd occasionally slip into such moments of 'unreality', where she'd hear snippets of conversation she couldn't remember having, see flashback events she didn't recall participating in, or feel things she'd never felt before—all involving her childhood rival, Scorpius Malfoy, strangely enough. She'd have bursts of irrational paranoia or anger or sadness that she couldn't explain, too, usually proceeding one of her walks down Memory Lane.

Eleri had counselled her on more than one occasion to speak to someone about it, but Rose had always brushed off the mood swings as PMS and the bizarre voices or images as the residual of bad dreams (and yes, Malfoy was definitely nightmare material for an independent gal like her. All those articles in  _The Daily Prophet_ ,  _Witch Weekly_ ,  _Witchie Pooh_  and other rags about him using up women like disposable toys was enough to grate on any real feminist's teeth. Honestly, the man was an absolute menace to womankind!). Thankfully, as she'd gotten older, those random breaks in reality didn't happen as frequently. She hadn't had an episode in almost a year, in fact.

Why now, though?

"I can't wait to have all of you under me, Rose," Corwin purred, thankfully not noting her momentary lack of attention, "to be inside you finally. To make love to you as I've wanted to since we were teenagers."

Bending his head towards one of her bared nipples, he drew the erect bud into his mouth with tender suckling, moaning like a devout man having found the Holy Grail.

Instantly, Rose's dimming arousal was reignited. There was something about Corwin that was irresistible; he was light to chase away her dark mood. She ran her fingers through his short hair, enjoying its softness, and she encouraged him with mewls of "yes," and "harder". He switched nipples, giving equal attention to both breasts, and then his fingers were back in between her legs, spreading her open, expertly entering her and coaxing her body to reach for another climax.

Before she could get there, however, Cor lifted his head, placing a small kiss upon her lips. "Do you want me inside you now?"

Out of her mind with pleasure, Rose nodded. "Yes. Please!"

"I like the sound of your begging," he teased. "Are you on anything—a birth control potion or pill? Or do I need my wand for the contraceptive spell?"

"We'll need the spell."

Without hesitation, he summoned his wand to his hand with a silent  _Accio_ , and cast the charm to prevent pregnancy and disease upon her. That done, he tossed his wand aside and began stripping off his clothes. "No more waiting," he mumbled, tossing his shirt over his head and to the ground, and rushing to undo his belt and trousers. "I'll try to go slow, but… fuck, Rosie, I want inside you so badly, I'm dying here!"

Sitting up, she helped him tug his slacks down his thighs, brushing his erection on the way past. He groaned as she wrapped her fingers around his length and gave it a long, slow stroke. "Want this inside me," she hummed as she gave him a long, wet lick. He shuddered in her mouth as her lips wrapped around him, drawing him in and sucking on the tip. "I need it fast and hard, Cor. Go slow later."

He nodded. "I can do that."

Using the strength in those powerful arms of his, Corwin lifted her up and pressed her into the back of the couch. Gripping her hips, he lined them up and slammed himself inside with one mighty surge, burying his cock to the hilt in her dripping wet pussy. They both cried out in satisfaction, clinging to the other as need overwhelmed their sanity.

Remaining true to his word, Cor fucked her from the get-go with quick, forcible pounding. Rose gave a series of incoherent cries, urging him on. She dug her nails into his arms, and rode him like an animal. Despite her lover's obvious skill, however, she didn't see stars behind her eyelids when she came. Instead, it was a bit of a disappointing orgasm, honestly, taking longer than expected, and ending in a series of small tremors, rather than shaking her to her core as her earlier climax had.

It was a frustrating sigh of relief when she'd been expecting an explosion of life-altering proportions.

Still, any orgasm was better than none, she supposed, especially as they were a rare occurrence for her. It typically took a lot of work to get her to come, even using her favourite strawberry-scented heated lubricant and her Muggle toys with their special ticklers and vibrating options. Besides, she'd had a lot to drink tonight. Alcohol always killed a bit of sensation, right?

It took several minutes of 'cool-off' time before Corwin was coherent enough to speak. Apparently, her lacklustre experience hadn't been mutually shared. "That was amazing!" he pronounced with a boyish grin. He lightly ran his hands over her spine, and nuzzled her throat. "I just knew it would be—that you'd undo me completely."

Well, clearly, Corwin not only had a sweet touch, but a sweet mouth, too. The orgasms he'd given her might have been a tad uninspiring, but Rose had to admit, her new lover more than made up for it with such lovely praise.

"I've kept tabs on you for years," he continued, sounding shy now. "Nothing stalkerish. Just asked on occasion how you were, if you were seeing anyone, if you were happ... that sort of thing." He brought a trembling hand up and caressed her cheek with it, meeting her eye. "All through school I fancied you, starting the day we shared a compartment on the train to Hogwarts. You never seemed really interested, though. I'm a lucky fucker to get this second chance."

Rose was astonished by his confession, having had no clue as to his hidden feelings for her back then. "But we went to the Yule Ball together during sixth year, when you were the Hogwarts Champion for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Remember?"

He gave her a slanted smile. "You spent the whole night glaring at my cousin, Scorpius, over my shoulder. It was pretty obvious where your interests lay then."

Flabbergasted, Rose could only gape at him. She hadn't liked Scorpius Malfoy when she'd been a kid. Her feelings for him had been just the opposite, in fact—she'd despised the Slytherin git! All through their school years, he'd cruelly taunted her, shoved her, played tricks on her, competed against her, and tripped her up, and she'd been glad to bid bye-bye to him the day they'd graduated. No way had she ever been interested in him, with his stupid rodent face and waspish tongue…

" _It was my first time. You hurt me!"_

_"Babe, I'm sorry. No more pain, I promise."_

_His lips tasted of fresh, ripe strawberries - her favourite…_

"Rose?" Corwin tilted her chin up, turning it from side to side, a worried expression on his face. "You okay?"

She blinked, and instantly came back into herself.

Oh, God, had she slipped again?

"Sorry, I was just… er…" Quickly, she reached for a lie to cover up the truth. "I was trying to recall that night."

Cor gave her a gentle smile and shrugged, as if it weren't really important in the grand scheme of things. "it was a long time ago. I'll admit, I've been secretly hoping that someday you'd be interested in me in  _that_  way, though, if we ever crossed paths again. It was really lucky that Lorcan and Lysander Scamander decided to drag me out tonight for some fun. Otherwise, I'd have missed you again." He ran a finger over her jaw, down towards her lips. "So, I guess I'm saying that I'm interested in seeing more of you, and asking if you want to do this again. Tonight. Tomorrow. Whenever. Cause, Rosie, I have to admit, I'm quite taken with you. Always have been."

Behind her ribs, Rose's heart picked up its paces. "Let's start with tonight, and see how we both feel in the morning."

Clearly relieved that she hadn't rejected him, Corwin eagerly nodded. "I want to take you to my bed, though. Should have done that the first time, but couldn't seem to make it that far. Sorry." He leaned in and kissed her. "I want to touch you and taste you all over. I want you to do the same to me. Sound good?"

"Absolutely!" she enthusiastically replied, looking forward to a second chance to orgasm tonight. "Lead on, sexy boy."

He lifted her in his arms and took her to his room. They didn't emerge for the remainder of the night.

Come morning, Rose was already half in love with her former crush.

**X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X**

_**Saturday, June 28th, 2031 (morning)** _

Rose continued to lay in bed feeling deliciously sated. Three orgasms (petite ones that hadn't rocked her world, but had done the job of relaxing her just as well) and a soothing shoulder massage had turned her into a pile of happy goo.

Corwin had spent the night at her flat, and he'd only just left her an hour earlier to get ready for his team's practise later that morning – the same exact thing she needed to do in a little while (although she didn't need to hit the Quidditch pitch until one o'clock, as the Holyhead Harpies were a little more interested in letting a girl get her beauty rest than in perfecting her Bludger batting technique). For the moment, she relished lying among her rumpled cotton sheets, pressing her nose into the pillow and smelling Cor's cologne—a wholly masculine scent that conjured images of tight Quidditch leathers, the scent of an honest-to-come-by sweat, and underneath it all, the hint of open pine forests. It reminded her of her Hogwarts days, which made her both happy as well as a bit nostalgic.

Sighing in satisfaction, she rolled around, hoping to bury that scent deep into her very pores, wanting to be saturated by it.

Good Godric, she was falling fast and hard for her new beau! It was impossible not to. The man was sexy, handsome, moderately wealthy, intelligent, and fun to be with.

A sudden worry had her sitting up and gripping her pillow close to her chest. Could they sustain the intensity between them and keep Corwin's interest long-term, or would this time be like the last two failed relationships she'd had: a bit of fire in the beginning, but fizzling out over time? From what Holly and Shannon had told her the night she'd first spied Cor on the dance floor at that club, her lover had had his fair share of the ladies since he'd come of age—and both sisters could be counted amongst that number, in fact.

Bloody buggering hell, how could she make herself stand out in what was surely a sea of other women who'd come before her when one of those experiences included taking a pair of hot  _twins_  to bed?

Perhaps Albus could offer some advice. After all, of all the fellows in her acquaintance, she knew that her bi-sexual cousin understood best how to win a man's attention. She made a mental note to owl the Potters this afternoon as she made her way to the shower and hopped in, getting ready for her day.

**X~~~~~X**

As she skipped down the stairs, freshly showered and feeling light on her toes, Rose began singing the chorus to a sappy Muggle love song that was one of her mum's favourites:  _"Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft!..._ _And although I know it's strictly taboo…_ _When you arouse the need in me..._ _My heart says 'yes, indeed' in me..._ _Proceed with what you're leading me to…"_

An owl pecking at her kitchen window interrupted her cheerful tune. She opened the window to find her mother's messenger owl, Herbert, carrying an envelope addressed,  ** _"For Your Eyes Only, Rose"_.**

She rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she wondered if her mother's paranoia stemmed from her time during the war dodging the Dark Lord's spies, or if the woman came by her distrust naturally.

Slipping the bird some treats and sending it on its way, Rose set the letter down on the counter next to the stove and began preparing her morning coffee. She'd formed the habit of enjoying  _khavesi_ , Turkish coffee, the summer after her Hogwarts graduation, when she and the entire female Weasley-Potter-Delacour clan had taken a "women's holiday" together to Amasra in Turkey ( _"also known as Amastris, the heart of the Veela empire in ancient times and the birthplace of the Amazons, their all-female army,"_ according to Dominique), to visit her maternal side of the family. It was now Rose's sun-up ritual every day to make a cup of strong java, cook up some porridge, and sit at her small table to enjoy at least twenty minutes of uninterrupted dining over the morning paper.

Today, however, she opted to open her mother's letter at the table, and to unwisely read it at the same time as sipping from her mug.

Black coffee spewed from Rose's mouth and across the whole of the table's wooden surface as she sputtered and coughed with surprise.

After cleaning up the mess, she set her porridge bowl aside and re-read the letter. Holding the letter away from her as far as her arm could stretch, she re-read it again, thinking her eyes must be tricking her. It was either that, or she needed her glasses to read again (she'd gotten corrective magic done at St. Mungo's for that when she was nineteen, and had been happy to chuck the ugly things), because there was no way on Rowena's right tit that her mum had written…

Nope, it still said the same ludicrously asinine thing: she was to skip practice today, dress in her best, summer dress (something conservative) and make herself presentable for high tea with the Malfoys at Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade at three o'clock.

Riiiiiight.

She scoffed and tossed the letter to the table with a negligent flick of her wrist. There was no way she was ever going to ever have any kind of pleasant conversation over crumpets and delicate china with that serpent-tongued tormentor of her childhood, Scorpius Malfoy. Not if she had anything to say about it.

Putting in a Floo call to her mum only ended with her stepping into the chimney and taking a trip over to her mum's cottage, where Hermione Granger-Weasley had been living ever since her divorce from Rose's dad. Rose then proceeded to get into a shouting match with her mother over the letter, which ended with her mum putting her foot down and Rose relenting – but only _after_  having a heaping, steaming pile of guilt dumped right onto her shoulders, of course. Her mum had absolutely no compulsion whatsoever about using every trick in the book to get her children (and her ex-husband, and Uncle Harry) to fall into line whenever she needed them to. Rose fell for her hoodwinking every time.

The truth was, Rose was not a gullible person by nature, but she simply didn't like to disappoint her parents. They had sacrificed so much for her over the years, and that fact was her Achilles Heel, as it were.

With a deep sigh of resentment, she'd left her mother an hour after arriving at her home with a fifty-point jump in her blood pressure and a promise that she'd attend this important shindig which, her mother had informed her, had been at the personal behest of Scorpius, the spawn of Satan himself. Apparently, whatever that nimrod had to say to her was of the utmost importance and couldn't be postponed another day. Whatever. The wanker probably just wanted to tell her that he'd used his family's obscene wealth to buy up a Quidditch team so he could use them to beat her solidly once and for all. He was probably still sore-arsed that he'd never won a match against her, Seeker to Seeker, back during their school days.

Returning to her flat through the Floo, Rose slumped in defeat. Gods, her mother could be such a bitch sometimes. The woman had actually whipped out the argument that her daughter still owed her for that one time during Rose's seventh year at school when she'd been called into the new Headmistress' office in the middle of the week, having to leave an important meeting at work, all because Corwin had accidentally ingested a Puking Poison that Rose had intended for Scorpius (a retaliatory revenge act for Scorpius having joke-hexed Rose with a spell the previous week that had made her entire body bare of all hair for several embarrassing days). Only her mum's quick thinking and persuasive arguments had saved her daughter from expulsion that day… and now her mother was using that as a weapon to force Rose's acquiescence in some twisted, but clever Slytherin-esque manoeuvering.

How utterly intolerable!

How absolutely inescapable.

Resigned, Rose dragged her bum over to her closet to rummage about for an appropriate outfit. Her mother had stressed that she was to look her best and no funny business. As if she wanted to look good for the likes of Scorpius  _git-on-a-broomstick_ Malfoy…

She paused with her hand on a hanger, considering that idea for a moment.

This was the perfect opportunity to at last get even with that snotty, spoilt brat, wasn't it? Malfoy hadn't seen her, as far as she was aware, in all the years since graduation, so he hadn't witnessed her transformation from an ugly kid duckling into an attractive, confident witch. Five years ago, she'd had her teeth done in addition to her eyesight, and now she not only had perfect vision, but a straight, white smile as well. Additionally, right after leaving Hogwarts, she and Eleri together had taken a ten-week beauty course on the weekends for fun and she'd learned how to adequately tame her wild hair. She'd had it properly cut and had been maintaining it with care ever since. Instead of a tangled mess, it now lay in smooth, gentle curls around her shoulders and down her back. Her figure had filled in, and instead of a flat straw-girl with coltish legs, she was now curvy and toned. Further, with the money she'd made from playing Seeker for the Harpies, she'd been able to afford a stylish wardrobe at long last.

Using all of her adult advantages, she was sure to 'wow' even the likes of a well-publicized man-slag like Scorpius Malfoy now that she was older. Rubbing it in his nose that she'd grown into a woman of beauty, despite all of the horrible things he'd predicted for her as a child, would be the ultimate revenge.

She liked the plan. She liked it a lot.

With gleeful anticipation, she put it into action.

**X~~~~~X**

Finally satisfied that she was a delectable vision of loveliness that was sure to turn Scorpius' head, Rose gathered her purse and wand, and Apparated over to her mum's cottage.

At first glance and to her shock, her mother was dressed rather handsomely as well, wearing a conservative, but well-tailored pastel lavender three-piece suit and snow white pumps that accentuated her attractive legs. The woman's hair and make-up were tastefully done as well, and she was wearing subdued, classic jewelry pieces to play-up the visual.

"Who are you hoping to see looking like  _that?"_  she questioned her mother, automatically suspicious.

Her mother blushed and turned away. "This is an important meeting, Rose. It's imperative that we both put our best feet forward. That means not just talking the talk, but walking the walk."

Rose raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Right."

Obviously, her mother was enjoying a moment of vanity, too, perhaps to stick it to her own childhood rival, Draco Malfoy, who had (as she'd understood it from Uncle Harry and her father) teased Hermione Granger-Weasley all through her school days. Scorpius' father had been as much a shite to Rose's mother as Scorpius had been to Rose. As the father, so the son.

Rose sighed in annoyance, and quickly checked the Muggle clock on her mother's wall. "We should probably just get this over with. It's about time."

To her astonishment, her mum rushed into the bathroom to check her appearance in the mirror once last time. With a final application of lip colour, her mother agreed it was time to go. The witch raised her wand to Apparate them both to Hogsmeade.

The trip was as easy as Apparition could be, and the landing perfect, as expected. Despite that, Rose felt a bout of nausea roll through her belly. Dread settled over her shoulders like a heavy cloak. In a few moments, she'd see  _him_  again… the one boy who had tormented her, made her feel inferior, and had broken her heart over and over again as a child.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Her mother took her arm and started them towards Madam Puddifoot's. With each step, Rose's intuition screamed at her to turn and run in the opposite direction.

"You're not marching to the executioner's block, you know," her mum reminded her with a teasing smirk.

"No, just another kind of doom," Rose replied, some sixth-sense telling her that her life was about to be thrown into turmoil again. Just as when her parents had announced their divorce, she braced herself for the worst to come.

Her mother laughed at such a gloomy prediction, and it was a bright sound – the kind that chased away misery. Its joyful ringing took Rose by surprise. "What's gotten into you?" she asked, wary and a little concerned.

"You," her mum confessed. "You're the most overly-dramatic girl I know. You worry more than I ever did." She gently elbowed Rose's ribs. "Everything will work out as it was meant to. You'll see."

Riiiiight. Either her mother was smoking something she oughtn't, or she knew something Rose didn't and wasn't telling. Either way, she honestly had to say she hadn't seen her mother this happy in… well, a very long time. The woman suddenly looked years younger, and her step had a spring to it that Rose had never felt from her before.

To her dismay, such boundless cheer was impossible to resist. It made Rose smile and shake her head, lightening the mood a bit.

"There's my girl," her mum proudly proclaimed. "Chin up, darling. No matter what comes, we'll face it together."

"Right."

Well, whatever was going on, it seemed Rose and her mother were going into it together.

 


	3. Casualty of Irony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius has recovered from his birthday night ritual and knows the identity of his mate at long last. He and his best mate, Marcus Zabini, share a drink over the information.
> 
> The Malfoy men meet with Scorpius' mate and her mother for tea... Why is Draco is acting so odd?
> 
> Scorpius hooks up with his old flame, Eleri Nott, in an attempt to forget the whole mating nonsense for a little while longer.

_**CHAPTER 3: CASUALTY OF IRONY** _

_**Wednesday, June 25th, 2031 (night)** _

It had taken Scorpius two days to recover from his Veela transition, which had been the single worst experience of his entire life.

To simply say it had sucked would be the understatement of the fucking year. It had sucked  _super_   _hard_ , with a heaping side order of goblin testicle soufflé for good measure.

Stage one had commenced that fated night with blinding pain, as his magical aura had shifted to accommodate the combining of the Veela's innate magic with his own. Thankfully, that experience had quickly ended as his Veela had woken up without much prodding, as if it had been eagerly awaiting its official emergence into the world.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, as the case had been), the pain morphed into an uncontrollable lust the likes of which Scorpius had never known. Like some sort of turbo-charged wizarding porn star hyped up on Pecker-Up Potion, his cock had gone as hard as steel within seconds, leaking pre-come everywhere. Believing his father had greatly over-exaggerated the unpleasantness of the Veela 'birthing', he'd stupidly grinned at his dumb luck and polished his knob with a smooth hand stroke.

The moment he'd swiped over his glans, however, he'd opened the flood gates—literally, and the tiny bit of sexual pleasure he'd experienced had evolved into pain again very quickly.

During the next horrible twenty minutes, he'd been unable to stop a series of powerful, gut-wrenching ejaculations flowing from the head of his erection. He'd counted six major explosions, with countless mini-orgasms in between. His robe and the bed under and around him had been soaked with the non-stop spurting of his white, creamy seed. It had been all over his hands and his thighs, and had dripped in hot rivulets over his aching, pulsing balls.

Like most boys, Scorpius had, at one time (when he'd been thirteen and wanking five times a day in between classes), fantasized about being able to come continuously in a girl in one long sexual release that would last hours and leave him feeling higher than Jupiter in the sky. The reality, however, was nothing as he'd expected.

Somewhere around the third salvo of sperm, he remembered asking where in the hell it was all coming from, as there was no possible way a person could put out so much goop at one time. By then, his father and grandfather had been long gone, however, having left the room to spare him further embarrassment, so he'd never gotten a response to his question.

By the fifth climax, he hadn't really cared about the answer—he'd just wanted it to stop. He'd even contemplated for a brief moment reaching for the small knife near the ritual bowl and cutting the thing off to get a break.

Thankfully, when the twenty minutes had timed out, his cock had deflated and his passion had cooled.

The fun didn't stop there, however. He'd had a full sixty seconds to recover from that shift in temper when he was suddenly and unexpectedly blindsided by a white-hot, uncontrollable rage.

Ten minutes later, his bedroom looked like a hurricane had blown through it. Furniture and picture frames and windows were broken, the bed covers were twisted and torn, and feathers from his pillows and mattress were scattered across every surface. The only items left untouched were those his father had had the good sense to be-spell against any potential damage—specifically, the ritual area where the scrying bowl awaited use.

By the time the second stage had begun, Scorpius' moods had swung so wildly, flying manically up and down, that he'd felt like a well-used broom. Emotionally wrung out, he'd wanted nothing more than to pass out and sleep for days.

No such luck.

The second stage had sucked even worse than the first. During that period, Scorpius' body had added muscle and bone mass, making him stronger and faster. He'd gone from being in decent shape to being FIT, with a capital 'F'. No more baby fat; even his small beer belly had melted away, leaving behind washboard abs and a tight, toned figure. His five senses had all sharpened, too, allowing him to hear better, to see further, and to smell the minutest scents. On top of it all, his cock had grown another inch in length and had thickened to match—just what he'd needed. Now he really was packing a monster in his trousers. The thing could have its own postal code!

If it hadn't been for the intense pain that had accompanied such changes, he'd probably have thought his forced evolution a cool thing. As it was, though, it had hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. All of the aches he'd ever felt during his growth spurt at thirteen had been a cake walk in comparison.

By the time stage two had ended, Scorpius had wanted someone to just  _Avada_  him and put him out of his misery.

If only.

Like stage one, stage three had started after a very short respite. He'd known the moment it began by his limp prick suddenly going rock hard again. His boner this time, though, had been the size of a bargepole, and it had  _pleaded_  for attention. It had taken ten minutes for it to desensitize enough for Scorpius to even touch it.

Weak-kneed, he'd shuffled over to the ritual basin, white spots bursting in front of his eyes with every step, trying valiantly to avoid tripping up on the weird ritual Greek-looking toga he'd been forced to wear. Once in position, he'd reached under his robe and gripped his Lord Smith in one tired hand, pointing the tip towards the clear water. Exhausted and on the verge of passing out, he'd wanked and wanked. Half a minute was all it took for him to come for the last time, feeling the burn from the orgasm all through his legs and abdomen.

When he'd finished, he'd tiredly reached for the ritual knife and cut his hand as he'd been instructed, adding three drops of his blood to the white mess that had been half-floating, half-sinking towards the bottom of the ceramic vessel. He'd been careful to stir clockwise as required.

When it was ready, with a weary sigh, he'd leaned over and waited for his doom.

When it came upon him, the vision had struck him with the force of a train, imprinting itself into his memory with a power that nearly staggered. With his magical 'Third Eye' fully opened, Scorpius had  _heard_  and  _seen_  his future…

 _"δύο θηρία να διαχωρίσει και να συγχωνευθούν σε μία_ , _"_ a strange woman's voice had whispered up from the depths of the ceremonial bowl first, forecasting his fate like some sort of Divination seer or an Oracle from the ancient world. The foreign phrase was instantly interpreted for him by some unknown magic, probably a Translation Charm built into the ritual itself:  _"Two beasts to split and merge into one."_

He'd had little time to ponder the meaning of such a portent as the apparition of his mate's face had suddenly appeared within the swirling, herb-scented, semen-enriched waters of the bowl.

What he'd seen had made Scorpius jerk back and fall to his knees as pure, unadulterated fear had rolled over him. He'd sworn up a storm then, doom settling into his chest somewhere in the region of his heart, knowing that he was going to be in for the fight of his life.

He'd had the devastating thought in that moment that if Rose Weasley had hated him before, when they'd been children and arch-rivals, she was going to want him dead for certain now.

Emotionally fried and completed exhausted, and now terrified of the unsure future that lay before him, his body had finally given up the ghost, short-circuited, and he'd lost consciousness, crashing to the floor. Apparently, his father and grandfather had found him minutes later, when they'd dared enter his bedroom to investigate why things had gone so unnaturally silent.

Two blarging days later, he'd woken up, healed and refreshed, and roaring mad with the unfairness of his life. It had been four additional days since then, and now Scorpius sat on a stool in his favourite bar in Knockturn Alley with his best friend, Marcus Zabini, attempting to get as pissed as he possibly could with a top-shelf Hebridean Black Firewhisky (named for one of his great uncles, Hebridean Black, who had invented the drink, not the dragon species of the same name).

He tossed back his third shot, wincing.

Of all the witches he'd ever known, why had the magic chosen Rose to be his mate? The witch had forever hated him. In spades. With daisies and dirt on top. He knew for a fact she'd happily dance on his grave— _after_ putting him in it—if she had her way. So, why her?

Sure, she'd been his first official fancy (unrequited and in secret, obviously), but she'd made it clear from the get-go that she'd never look at him in  _that_  manner. He was a Malfoy and the son of a former Death Eater, and in her world (read: being the first born daughter of two of the greatest heroes of the war), that had equated to him being an untouchable – the lowest of the low.

Still, that fact hadn't deterred his feelings; he'd actually gone and fallen in love with the chit by seventh year.

However, like any frustrated, hormonal teenage boy who'd been publicly and repeatedly slighted by the girl of his dreams, Scorpius had made Rose pay for snubbing him throughout the years they'd been in school together. He'd antagonized and bullied her, mercilessly teased and jeered at her, and tripped her up at every opportunity.

All to keep her attentions firmly fixed on him and off other boys, of course.

Rose hadn't been a push-over, though. She'd given back as good as she'd gotten—an Amazonian warrior witch to the max. She'd proved that despite having been sorted Ravenclaw for her vast intelligence and her love of reading (until her eyeballs bled), and the fact that she had the goody-goody heart of a Hufflepuff at times, too, she was most definitely a Granger-Weasley, inheriting the Gryffindor penchant for meeting force with force from her parents. And to be honest, he thought she may have even adopted a bit of her cousin, Albus' Slytherin cunning, too, as her sneak attacks and revenge schemes were legendary stuff.

He shook his head now, remembering some of their nastiest battles. Man, had he really been that much of a prick, seriously? And what a bitch she'd been!

Okay, yes, there had certainly been some nasty pranks, offensive hand gestures, "wayward" spells cast, a slew of vicious words, and a whole lot of cheek traded between them over those seven years. They'd been downright mean to each other. In between it all, though, Scorpius had always wanted Rose. There was never a time he  _hadn't_ wanted her, even when he'd been given the opportunity to play around with other witches. She'd always starred in every one of his fantasies, whether it be the ones where they were just friends or the more erotic ones, as he'd gotten older.

The truth was he'd watched her grow up with an increasing sense of unease and an escalating desperation that had mounted every year. Each June that passed them by had taken her one step closer to leaving the school—and him—behind, and even early on, he'd been hurt by that thought. Every birthday she'd celebrated had also meant she was growing into the woman she was destined to become, and Scorpius had well envisioned that beauty by their fourth year. It had irritated him deep inside to think that someday, some other boy would figure out Rose's greatest riddles before him.

By their sixth year, his predictions had begun to come true: Rose had started to bloom, showing all the signs of eventually sharing her mother's girl-next-door beauty. She'd also lost most of her baby fat, thanks to spending hours on the Quidditch pitch, and had sprouted a nice pair of breasts to boot. This, of course, captured the attention of his male classmates, including his stylish and well-liked cousin, Corwin McLaggen, who'd ended up taking Rose to the Yule Ball that Christmas (the bloody wanker!). Scorpius had found himself competing for her attention from then on, as he'd feared.

Tragically, his feelings had always been one-sided, and he'd been heartbroken the minute the farewell celebrations had come to a close at Hogwarts, when Rose had left without even a glance back at him. No final slap, no last volley of insults for old time's sake, she'd simply stepped into the carriage with her parents and younger brother, and had let them take her away without giving him a second thought. He remembered standing at Hogwarts' main gate with his grandmother and grandfather at his side (his father too ill to leave their home even to attend his graduation, supposedly), watching Rose fade out of sight with a distraught curse and spitefully vowing not to think of her ever again.

He'd tried his best over the years to live up to that vow, too, to replace her with any female warm and willing. Okay, yeah, maybe he'd gone a bit overboard with the shagging-anything-that-moved gig, but he'd been determined to fuck away Weasley's unnatural hold over his heart. It had never worked, though. Hell, but she was  _still_  in there even to this day, haunting him.

The one girl he'd never had, but had always wanted… and now she was destined to be his life mate, bound to him until death, whether she liked it or not.

Of course, Scorpius' Veela was over the moon at the choice. It had laughed and celebrated in triumph when Rose's face had appeared in the scrying bowl, and after regaining consciousness, it had begun nagging at him to go claim Rose – now, now,  _now_. The thing was as giddy as a sixteen-year-old virgin on his way to his girlfriend's place to lose his cherry.

Fecking happy bastard.

"So, you gonna tell me who she is now or do I need to get you even more shitfaced before you open that mouth of yours?" Zabini asked.

Marcus Zabini was one of the very few who knew Scorpius' family's secret regarding the Veela, but only because his father, Blaise, was one of Scorpius' dad's best friends. Apparently, the elder Zabini had gone through this same exact thing with Draco in the aftermath of after his father's transition.

Scorpius scooted his empty shot glass across the bar, indicating to the barkeep to pour another. "It's Weasley," he said with a sigh.

A moment's silence greeted his pronouncement.

"You're shittin' me? You're stuck with a  _bloke?_ "

Scorpius turned to his friend and slapped him upside the head with the flat of his palm. "Not Hugo, moron."

Three more seconds of silence passed before Marcus literally roared with laughter, making every head in the room turn with interest. "Holy shit, Rose?" Zabini continued chuckling. "You'd have been better off with her brother. You're  _so_ humped!"

Tipping back his fifth chaser, feeling the burn down her throat and into his belly, Scorpius let the alcohol dim his rioting emotions. Marcus had no clue as to Scorpius' real feelings regarding Rose Weasley–no one did, except his Veela, and he'd prefer to keep it that way.

"Tell me something I don't know, genius."

Zabini asked for a refill on his own drink, waiting until the server was out of earshot before continuing their conversation. "You're sure there's absolutely no way to break the mating thing?"

Feeling the buzz beginning to take him, needing to get good and plowed, Scorpius ordered another round, telling the barman to keep 'em coming until his head hit the wood.

"Sure, there's a few ways: she could die, I could die, or another Veela could magically appear on the scene and claim her as his mate before me, in which case there's a good possibility I might die anyway in the resulting fight. Basically, death for one of us is the only option. Other than that, though, I'm stuck with that tomboyish, smart-mouthed witch for the rest of my life." He raised his full glass and mock saluted. "To the next one-hundred and fifty years of misery!"

Cursing his bad luck once more for being born into this chicken-choking family, Scorpius proceeded to get toasted. Around one in the morning, Marcus dragged him home by Floo; neither of them dared attempt to Apparate in the condition they were in. Helped into his bed by the Malfoy house-elf, he dreamed that night about his various run-ins with his mate while they'd been in school together as kids: Rose besting him at O.W.L.s and turning a smug look upon him across the dining hall, making him eat his earlier words that she'd fail every one of them; Rose beating him to the Snitch yet again; Rose's wand pointed at his nose, preparing to hex him for dumping her books; Rose dancing a waltz with his cousin at the Yule Ball while glaring at him over her date's shoulder as Scorpius danced with some forgettable girl; Rose drinking too much contraband Firewhisky and laughing at some stupid joke he told, giving him her smile for the first time…

Waking the next afternoon with a foul taste in his mouth, a thumper-whump of a hangover pounding through his head, and stinking of sweat, alcohol, and cigars from the bar's smoky interior, Scorpius stared up at the canopy of his bed and swore undying hate for the destiny his life had woven for him.

Minutes later, in the shower, he wanked to the fantasy of Rose's prissy, smart mouth sliding over the entire length of his dick as he fisted that thick, curly hair of hers and shoved himself deep down her throat. He came harder than he ever had before, spilling his seed all over his hand.

Merlin's hairy balls, he was  _so_  undeniably bucked - especially if that redheaded firebrand of his ever caught wind to just exactly how much he'd  _really_  wanted her for years!

**X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X**

_**Saturday, June 28th, 2031 (afternoon)** _

A strong, comforting hand landed on Scorpius' knee to stop its nervous jiggling. "Why are you so tense?" his father asked, concern marring his pale brow. "You know this girl well from your school days."

"That's part of the problem," Scorpius replied. "We didn't exactly get on back then."

His dad gave him a reassuring pat and a tight smile and Scorpius returned it. Their relationship was still strained, despite the fact it had improved somewhat over the last several weeks and that Draco was here with him now in a show of solidarity. This was the first time since Scorpius' mum's death that his father had come out into public, in fact – a big step for the man who'd been a self-imposed homebody for fourteen years.

Scorpius' grandmother had once explained her son's withdrawal from the world and his emotional distance from all of them was a result of the loss of Astoria. Apparently, the death of a Veela mate could cause a man sharing his life with a Veela to become mentally imbalanced. If Scorpius were to lose Rose after mating her, he would suffer something similar – either that, or he'd go insane and need to be put down like some feral animal by the Ministry. In his father's case, Draco had dealt with Scorpius' mother's death by completely withdrawing from the world, and it had only been in the last few months, as Scorpius had approached his Veela's coming-of-age ceremony, that the man had seemed to wake-up from whatever mental fog had held him in its thrall for so long.

Although Draco couldn't really be blamed for his illness, the loss of him in Scorpius' life after his mother's death and then all during a very vital part of his growing up had really hurt. To see his father, day after day, just listlessly roaming the property, not really tuned in or interested in his own son's life, had created unintentional resentment on Scorpius' side. He'd spent years putting up walls to keep that pain from hurting him.

They were both trying now that Draco was back to 'normal', though, to fix their relationship. This little outing of theirs to meet with Scorpius' mate and discuss her inclusion into their family was a good way to begin rebuilding bridges between them.

"She's never going to go along with this," Scorpius admitted with some dejection. "She hated me back then, you know."

His father chuckled. "Things change with time. Perhaps she's grown up into a lovely, mature young woman who would be amenable to your suit now. Stranger things have happened, my son."

Swallowing his bitter, cooling tea, Scorpius sniffed. "Right, and I'm getting my virginity back any minute now."

They waited several more minutes in silence, Scorpius trying not to jiggle his knee in agitation, when suddenly his father stiffened up in his chair and let out a small gasp. Drawn to where his dad's gaze was now pinned, he felt his own breath knocked from his lungs as he took in the sight of loveliness approaching.

As Rose and her mum drew near the private table they'd reserved at Madam Puddifoot's for the afternoon, Scorpius couldn't help but gape. As his father had hypothesized, Rose had definitely evolved over the last seven years. Her bushy, crimson hair with its riot of frizzy curls had been tamed and attractively cut to lay about her shoulders in a sexy wave. The dark sprinkling of freckles that had once brushed across her nose had substantially lightened, and now the perfect cream of her skin was plainly evident. Also, without those damnable, ugly glasses she'd always worn in the way, he could now see how bright her aqua-colored eyes really were. And her teeth had been straightened, perfected, as he could see from the brilliant, full smile she displayed.

She wore a lovely summer dress with some blue flower print that complimented the colour of her eyes. The low-cut halter allowed for an interesting cleavage shot, and the skirt's short hem exposed a pair of truly perfect legs. On her feet, strap sandals with a sexy heel put her inches over her mother, closer to Scorpius' own height – at the perfect elevation to capture those ruby lips of hers without having to bend too far. Her jewelry was modest and attractive, but what was most important to him was that there was no hint of a ring on her left hand.

In other words, she was exquisite  _and_  unmarried – two things that made Scorpius breathe a huge sigh of relief.

 _She's here,_ his Veela growled with pleasure in his head, sitting up and taking note. Scorpius felt its lust and love glowing within him as it met its mate, all grown up. It seemed to find Rose as perfect as Scorpius had. _Need her. Love her. Want her,_ it sighed.

 _Relax. I've got this,_  Scorpius answered it, concerned it would push itself too much and tire them both out.

Despite the days of rest since its 'birth', his other-half was still very weak, which impacted Scorpius' own health. Every day brought improvement, but the thing had been utterly wiped out after its emergence. Still, Scorpius could feel its eagerness to have at its mate now. It was practically salivating in his head.

 _Keep calm and let me negotiate with her,_  he parlayed.  _This is going to be hard enough without her seeing you in your real form._

He'd had a single opportunity since his twenty-fifth birthday to see the creature he now shared his life with, and he had to admit, it was just alien enough to probably scare Rose to death: huge bird wings, shadowed facial features with glowing silver eyes, longer hair, and sharp fangs… it would be enough to send any girl screaming for the hills. He'd never convince Rose to willingly accept him if he approached her looking like a monster.

Inside his head, his Veela snarled at him for thinking such a thing.

 _Sorry, but you know it's true,_  he apologised, but trying to explain.  _It's going to infuriate her just to know she's going to be forced to marry me or face Ministry law. She's not going to take that part well, much less that there are two of us in here, one of whom is a male Veela who intends to impregnate her the minute he can. Hell, I'd be surprised if she knows much more than what we learned in school about your kind. From her perspective, you appear human, but you're a completely different species, like a Merperson or a Goblin. That's going to spook her even worse. We've got to approach this carefully if we want to win her over._

His Veela gave a tired, resigned sigh.

_Fine. Talk to her. Just don't bollocks it up._

He shut up then, exhausted from just that little bit of effort, but he was still watching and listening… and sulking at what Scorpius had said.

Redirecting his attention outwards once more, Scorpius focussed on Rose as she drew closer. She truly was beautiful, from the tips of her toes to her nose, and from the way she walked to the sound of her laughter, which carried across the distance. It seemed the cosmos had chosen right for him, much to his surprise. He felt his heart trip over itself in his chest as she turned her head in his direction…

…and nearly lost his breakfast right there on the table as her smile dropped and a glower overtook her features as their gazes connected.

Clearly, nothing had changed for her.

"Lovely," his father murmured in frank appreciation, his voice slightly trembling as he watched the two women approach.

Scorpius sighed. "Yeah, but still a bitch," he growled under his breath.

His father ignored him, his gaze locked on their guests. Scorpius noted the man's attention was particularly fixated on Rose's mother and paused to appraise his dad's tastes.

For a woman in her early-fifties, Hermione Weasley looked to be a full decade younger. Despite her age, there was not a grey to be seen in her hair, and any wrinkles she might have had were well-hidden beneath tasteful make-up. The woman had clearly taken care of her appearance, and it was obvious where Rose had acquired her good looks.

In their features, she and her daughter were very similar. The exceptions were Mrs. Weasley's hair, which was a cool cocoa colour (Rose's was a vibrant auburn), and her eyes were the deep cider brown of autumn leaves (while her daughter's eyes were the same shade of blue as a warm Caribbean sea). Aside from that, however, the two ladies could pass for cousins, rather than a mother-daughter team.

Dryly, Scorpius figured that if Rose continued to take after her mum as she got on in years… well, at least he would still want to fuck his mate when she'd hit middle age. If they didn't kill each other before then.

Rising from his seat to greet their appointment with impeccable manners, Draco lightly kicked his son under the table to do likewise. Scorpius reluctantly made it to his feet, facing off against his destiny with dread in his chest, but his chin held high.

Despite the laws written in the favour of a Veela's mating suit, Scorpius well understood that he'd still need to win his woman's affections. The alternative was a lifetime of cold shoulders, curses, and screaming matches, punctuated by brief interludes of angry sex which would leave them both feeling used and disappointed in the afters. As he didn't particularly want a wife who detested his touch, or children who were raised knowing their parents hated each other to the marrow, he had to try to get her to see him as he was now, not as he'd been in their youth.

He prayed for lightning to pass through the roof of the fancy Tea Shoppe and strike him dead right then, for that would surely be less painful to endure than what he was about to attempt.

Before Scorpius could say a word in greeting, his father stepped forward without preamble and executed the slyest, smoothest move Scorpius had ever seen played: he gently took Mrs. Weasley's hand in his and, instead of shaking as she'd offered he bowed low over the knuckles, presenting them with a polite kiss. As he straightened, he gave the woman his most melting smile.

"Thank you for agreeing to come and discuss this delicate situation with us, Hermione."

A shy smile lit up Rose's mother's face and she blushed like a young girl. "As I said in my letter, I understand how important this meeting is to both our families." She appraised him with a sweeping glance. "It's been a long time, Draco. You look smashing."

His father stepped closer, continuing to hold onto the woman's hand. "As do you. I've always thought periwinkle blue a fetching colour on you."

Floored that his father was unmistakably flirting—and no less with the mother of his mate—Scorpius' jaw dropped open.

"Technically, the suit is Corsican purple," Mrs. Weasley replied, her voice a bit breathy.

The hint of a smile played about Draco's lips. "It's lovely on you."

Hermione took a step forward this time, narrowing the distance between her and Scorpius' dad until there were bare inches separating them. "Thank you. It's nice you remembered my favourite colour."

"I could never forget anything about you."

And then the two old "enemies" shut their mouths and just stared at each other like the answer to every mystery was to be found in the other's eyes.

Well, clearly they knew each other in a much more intimate manner than Scorpius could have ever guessed. When was that though, and why had that changed?

 _Shit. Tell me this isn't happening,_  he thought, feeling sweat begin to bead upon his brow. What the hell was going on? This wasn't why he'd come here today! He'd come to gently explain things to Rose, with the hope that he could court her properly before mating her. This, though… this was a fucking disaster! His father and her mother were– Oh, Merlin on a cross! Rose was going to have his balls for dinner!

He shut his eyes, hoping that when he opened them again, he would find Rose and her mum still walking towards them and that the last several minutes had all just been some nightmare fantasy he'd concocted in his stressed out, too tired brain…

He peeked through his lashes. Nope. No such luck. His dad and Rose's mother were still eye-fucking each other.

Shit, this was like that one time at the end of his seventh year, in the days after N.E.W.T.s had finished, but before the official end of the term, when Holly and Shannon Finnigan slipped Amortentia into Marshall Macmillan's drink. The poor guy had proclaimed ever-lasting love for the twins, promising to serve their every need on bended knee. He'd looked at them in much the same manner that his dad was looking at Rose's mum.

There was an intense, awkward minute or so where no one spoke, and then Scorpius turned his head and traded a silent look with Rose that said she was just as astonished as he over this turn of events. As their eyes connected, Scorpius suddenly realised that now was an excellent opportunity to make a good impression on his mate. He cleared his throat and, taking his cue from his dad's earlier conduct, stepped up to the task of wooing his mate. He bowed from the waist in greeting. "Thank you for coming to meet me today, Rose. I appreciate this chance to talk."

The odd second of shared understanding between them was suddenly lost as Rose's frown returned and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Can the chivalrous host act, Malfoy, and just tell me what this is all about. Why was I made to dress up and dragged to Hogsmeade today? I'm missing Quidditch practice for this meeting, because you claimed was of the utmost urgency."

Scorpius scowled, his hackles rising in automatic defence. "So rude, Weasley. Where are your manners?"

Torn from their contemplation of each other by the sounds of their children already fighting, Hermione removed her hand from Scorpius' father's and turned to her daughter, pinching her arm. Rose yelped and pulled away. "You were asked here today because what Scorpius has to tell you concerns your future," the woman explained to her daughter. With a fierce expression on her face, Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips, her expression brooking no back-talk. "At least attempt to be polite, Rose."

Abashed, the younger Weasley's cheeks burned a crimson colour to match her hair. Her jaw clenched, but she seemed mollified for the moment. "Yes, m'am."

Choking back the resentment and disappointment burning through his chest, Scorpius held out a seat for Rose and tucked her into the table. Taking a seat across from her, he watched his father do the same for Mrs. Weasley (although with infinitely more patience and affection to the movements), and then spent precious seconds measuring up his intended as she pointedly ignored his staring.

Alright, so it was true that Rose had indeed blossomed into a succulent thing on an amazing set of legs, and yes, she smelled incredible enough to eat; her perfume–a spicy vanilla with notes of amber and musk–made his mouth water. And okay, her body was a thing of art he wanted to reveal a piece at a time and then sit back and admire. His gaze dipped to her cleavage. Were her nipples rose-coloured, like her name? He was betting they were.

Shit, the Veela lust for his mate was clearly kicking-in. He knew it would only intensify if he actually touched her, so he made a mental note not to do so, not even to shake her hand, not wanting to become a slave to her before he had a chance to similarly entice her.

"Is that acceptable to you, son?" his father asked him, drawing him out of his thoughts. A member of the wait staff stood by their table looking at him for her cue.

Not wanting to admit he'd been caught not paying attention, Scorpius shrugged. "Fine."

The nippy went away with their order, and there was another of those uncomfortable pauses in the conversation.

"Perhaps now would be appropriate timing to discuss why you requested this meeting?" Rose appealed, breaking the silence. There was a definite bite to her tone and her eyes were positively glacial as she glared across the table at her 'date'.

Scorpius traded a look with his father, who simply nodded for him to take the reins. This was, after all, his show. With a deep breath, he launched into the well-rehearsed speech he'd prepared in advance of the meeting.

"Rose, I realize it's been years since we last talked–"

Rose laughed. It was a bitter sound. "We've never  _talked_ , Malfoy. As I recall, any time we traded words you generally insulted and degraded me, and I fought back."

Incredulous, Scorpius fired back, "You have a convenient memory, then! As I remember it, you did your fair share of slighting me at almost every occasion, too. The offensive notes passing back and forth – that started with  _you_ , first year Potions class."

He'd expected her to deny it. She didn't.

"Regardless, we've still never  _talked_. Yelled, shouted, upset, tripped, knocked over, loomed menacingly, frightened, spit at, hexed, sneered, scowled, laughed at derisively, unsettled, and affronted are more correct adjectives to address the actions between us, Scorpius, so stop pretending that we have ever, in any fashion, been civil to each other long enough to simply talk."

His mind grabbed onto one glaring error in her diatribe and went with it. "I have  _never_  spit at you, Weasley. It was just the opposite, in fact – fourth year, you got me square on the cheek."

"After you called me an ugly, frizzy-headed cow," she retorted.

"After you hexed my favourite quill to only write, 'I like to lick dragon balls'," he replied, rearing for a full-on row now. He was suddenly fifteen all over again, and feeling the acute sting of Rose's sharp tongue. Every defence was up, and every good intention he'd come into today's meeting with disappeared from his mind. If she wanted a fight, by the Founders, he'd give her one! "I had to toss the bloody thing and buy a new one! Do you know how difficult and expensive it is to get an Occamy-feather quill? By the way, you forgot to add to your list: screamed, shrieked, roared, hollered, bellowed, tricked, confused, disconcerted, unsettled, jinxed, demoralized, sniggered at, smacked, kicked, and pinched. Those were some of your best moves, after all."

Somewhere in the middle of his rant, a sparkle took up residence in Rose's eye. Now he and she were back in their 'comfort zone' – hurling insults at each other… and clearly, she was getting off on it. "Well, we can definitely cross-off buying you a thesaurus for your birthday," she snarked. "Seems your education paid off, Malfoy. Your family would be proud."

"I am," his father finally spoke up, a barely concealed grin plastered to his handsome features. He traded a look with Mrs. Weasley. "And I had trouble believing him when he called your daughter a spit-fire."

Rose's mother chuckled. "It comes from her father's side, I'm sure."

Scorpius' dad's snickered. "Oh, of course, Granger. She doesn't at all take after you, not in looks or in temperament."

Granger?

Thanks to the gossip rags, Scorpius knew Hermione and Ronald Weasley had divorced several years prior, but he hadn't been aware she'd retaken her maiden name. Or perhaps his father was just used to referring to the woman in such a manner from their school days?

He looked at the way his dad was watching Rose's mum. The spark of life had rekindled in the old man. And it seemed Hermione was equally as fascinated. Well, at least one of them might get lucky with a Weasley in this lifetime.

Ignoring the disappointment in his gut for his own circumstances and how badly they seemed to be going, Scorpius turned back to Rose and tried to get them back to his original point, before their argument. "In any case, things are different now. It's been seven years, and we're not children anymore. People change."

A skeptical laugh erupted from his mate's pretty, rouged mouth. "Some things will never change, Malfoy."

"Meaning?"

Rose's features hardened. "Meaning, there are some universal truths you can't ignore no matter how polite you pretend to be for a day."

"For example?" he prompted, curious as to the inner workings of her mind.

Folding her hands in her lap, his mate looked at him as if he were an errant seven-year-old who'd been caught being naughty. "For example: if the papers are to be believed, you're still an unapologetic player. According to them, you change your girlfriends as frequently you change your socks, and have casually left a line of broken hearts behind you. As I recall, you did the same thing back in school. You have always treated women like disposable items, Malfoy, showing them little-to-no respect."

Well, that wasn't a very fair analogy, Scorpius thought. He was a good-looking, young bachelor with a title and wealth behind him. Women used  _him_  with equal abandon, if only to get their five minutes of fame as his date, or to get him to spend money on their whims. Why should he be punished for enjoying the offerings presented to him under such false pretence? His relationships with those women were mutual understandings of use, as far as he was concerned.

Just as he opened his mouth to reply, she hit him with her second volley.

"There's also the fact that you don't take anything seriously enough to apply yourself to it with any true devotion, aside from drinking like a fish and the aforementioned sport of women-dodging. You still don't have a job, according to  _The Tattling Witch_ , nor do you aspire to be anything more than an irresponsible, spoiled rich boy living off your family's wealth - just as you had at seventeen when you'd engaged in marathon House-crawling any night of the week with that slouch, Zabini."

She had him there. Scorpius had always been somewhat lackadaisical about life, but that was only because he'd known from the time he'd been in nappies what his future would hold for him: a Veela to share his life with, a mate at his side, children to play at his feet, and to someday inherit the family fortune. He was a Malfoy, and the patriarch of his family was charged with running the familial empire, investing their vast wealth with the intention of doubling it before eventually passing the responsibility on to his son. It had been that way forever. It wasn't like he was free to aspire to do anything else!

His take-over was another seventy-five years off into the future – only after Lucius passed and his father retired. In the meantime, what was a long-lived wizard to do other than enjoy his days and take advantage of the trappings of his family's wealth?

Rose mercilessly continued her damning,  _"Top Ten Reasons To Hate Scorpius Malfoy"_  list, and he had to wonder how long the girl had been deliberating over him to have come up with such a well-considered inventory of his faults.

Ten tiresome minutes later, she finally seemed to be winding down.

"And lastly, there's the fact that your mouth is still as sharp and antagonistic as when we were kids. You bark vicious, Malfoy. Clearly, you've never learned to reign in that temper of yours." She sniffed in disapproval, turning that pointed little nose of hers up into the air. "Oh, and for the record, you're not half the man your cousin is."

That did it! She could poke at him for being lazy, for appreciating a good pub crawl more than was socially acceptable, and for his enjoyment of extreme variety in his bedroom, but comparing him to the 'Golden Boy', Corwin-? Now she'd stepped over the line!

He stood up, throwing his napkin down on the table in disgust. "You want to know why my temper's always been so short around you, Weasley? Because you're a vicious harpy who could nag a groom into his grave before the honeymoon even began! My ears are  _still_  ringing and you stopped talking two minutes ago! Hell, I bet if I gave you a full hour to whinge on, I'd be lucky to get my hearing back before the next ice age!" He leaned forward over the table, pressing his palms flat against the surface for support and stared Rose down. "And talking about a waste of my precious time: do you realise you just spent more time insulting me than it took me to masturbate this morning?"

His father and Mrs. Weasley both gasped, looking horrified by his foul mouth.

"Scorpius, enough," Draco growled, clearly embarrassed by his son's uncivilised behaviour.

But this clash between Scorpius and Rose had been inevitable and, like a boulder at the top of a hill given a nudge, was now an unstoppable force. They'd had no real closure the last time they'd seen each other, and in the years that had followed, clearly they'd both been thinking about the other and all the things left unsaid between them. Well, Scorpius was on a roll now and it was his turn to talk, so it was full steam ahead and to hell with the consequences.

"Feel better now that you've finally gotten all that crike off your chest, Rose? How many years have you been toting that speech around in your head? Since graduation? Before then? I bet it was something you've been rehearsing for a long time. Obsessed with me, much?"

Apparently, there was some truth in his accusation as Rose remained silent in the face of it. Her scarlet and blotchy cheeks, however, told him everything he needed to know.

"You've got some nerve being shirty with me, lady, you know that?" he continued, relentless. "Yeah, so I've got some flaws. Well, here's a news flash for you, prissy:  _you do, too!_  You're just as foul-tempered as I am, and your vicious streak has always been a mile wider than anyone else's I've ever known. And for the record, you're the one picking the fight this time, not me. I came here today to put our bad past to rest and move forward." He pushed off the table and slumped backwards into his chair, disappointed and a little depressed at the bad turn the conversation had taken. "Maybe you're right, though, and we can't start over. Maybe we did and said too much back then when we were kids, and there's no taking back that kind of cruelty. Hell, maybe some people just don't deserve a second chance."

He clamped his mouth then, frustrated and unsure as to what to do next. This wasn't simply a situation he could walk away from, no matter his despondency, and he knew it. For him, the only option without Rose was death; he  _had_  to mate her. Yet, how could he hope to build a new relationship with her when their old one was so bollocksed up? Rose wasn't even receptive to  _talking_  to him, much less letting him bond her life and magic to his!

The only response from everyone at the table to his angry, sarcastic tirade was merely to glare at him. Scorpius scowled, bitterly resentful that he'd been put in this situation at all. Why had the magic chosen Rose again? Maybe he should just give it all up and try to find a way to survive without taking a mate. It might be possible, right? Someone must have done it at least once.

As if they'd choreographed the move, Draco and Hermione simultaneously turned to their children and began whispering in their ears.

"Well, at least you've cleared the air," his dad murmured to him, "although your closing argument needs work. It's entirely too discouraging."

Scorpius snorted. "You think?"

"Mmm. I'd suggest next time you don't leave things on such a low note. Try something more upbeat, like 'But if anyone deserves a second chance, Rose, it's us.' See? A much more positive declaration as to your long-term intentions for her – and it could segue into negotiating what comes next."

"I doubt she thinks anything about me charming enough for that to work," he replied, rolling his eyes.

His father nudged him with an elbow. "You're giving up too easily, my son. Nothing worth having is ever effortless."

"What's effortless?" Hermione asked, her pep talk with Rose apparently already over.

Proving that no true Slytherin ever lost his touch, no matter the years since his sorting, his father gave Mrs. Weasley a mischievous smile and smoothly replied, "Why, enjoying the pleasure of your company, of course."

Rose lifted an eyebrow at that. "Slick," she complimented Scorpius' dad.

"Years of practice," his father replied with a grin.

Just like that, something inside Scorpius switched over. He flushed hot, then cold, then hot again as irrational jealousy burned straight through his guts. "Shall I book you two a room at The Three Broomsticks, then? I hear they have great rates by the hour."

Three sets of jaws dropped in shock, and the table went silent.

"Hell, I'm… Damn, I need some air." He scooted his chair back and stood up. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Mrs. Weasley, dad. Rose… see you."

With that, he walked out, feeling foolish for having ever lusted after a woman who had always been out of his league, and for that small part of him that had really wanted this to work out.

 _You can't leave,_  his Veela weakly snapped at him.  _Go back._

"No," he murmured, half to himself, half to his bestial side.  _Not like this. We're both too angry. All that's going to happen is violence if we're in the same room together right now._

His Veela snarled at him.  _You will not hurt my mate, boy – never again._

Seeking a secluded spot to stop for a moment so he could have this conversation in private, Scorpius took a right down a narrow alley between buildings. He stopped half-way in and leaned against one of the brick walls.

 _It's not_ _me_ _hurting_ _her_ _that we should worry about._   _I'm not the one with the hefty vocabulary, the accurate wand aim, and a vicious right hook. And she's our mate, Veela, not just yours._

He glanced up into the jewel-blue sky peeking between the gables of the roofs and sighed. 

_Man, she really handed me my arse back there. Shite, it's like she's been carrying around that anger for a long time._

His Veela was oddly silent at that.

_I thought, maybe… There was this one time, back in sixth year, just before the Yule Ball… She looked at me across the dining hall with that challenging look – you know the one I mean? It was just after the dance had been announced, and I thought she was trying to tell me I should ask her to go. I wanted to. I did. I just… couldn't work up the nerve. I was afraid she'd laugh in my face._

He looked down at his polished, Italian leather shoes, feeling shame and regret twisting his insides. 

_Corwin didn't have the same problem, bloody wanker._

He recalled that night with crystal clarity: Rose appearing on his cousin's arm, looking beautiful despite her unattractive glasses and her closed-mouth smile. She'd worn a dark green gown with dainty, teardrop diamonds in her ears, and for the first time, she'd properly done up her hair. She'd been a vision, and Scorpius had spent all evening sneaking glances at her when no one was paying attention. When he'd lost his virginity to Charmita Patil that same night in his dorm bed, he'd closed his eyes and imagined his partner was Rose.

Now he had to wonder: had Rose lost her virginity at the same time, her innocent body splayed out over Ravenclaw blue sheets (or had they been his cousin's Gryffindor red blankets)?

The thought made him want to go find Corwin wherever he was right then, and pummel the guy the death, regardless of the truth of the matter. That he'd taken Rose on a date and had been able to dance with her had been enough to hate him.

Seeing green and clinging to his anger (which was infinitely better than acting like a depressed pussy, he'd decided), Scorpius stomped back down the street, heading for The Hogs Head with the single-minded goal of getting nice and plastered that afternoon. Maybe he'd even pass out and get tossed into the gutter by Four-Fingered Finnigan, the war hero-slash-proprietor of the place, who was famous for having had the pinky finger of his right hand cut off by a Severing Charm in the final battle of the war.

Inside his head, his Veela was asleep again, worn out from their discussion. He could feel its discontent with him even in its slumber, though. No doubt it would make him pay the moment it woke up for not having immediately returned to the Tea Shoppe.

Fuck it. He'd deal with his 'other half' later.

From the corner of his eye, he spied a bright, red sign in the front window of  _Spintwitches_  and stopped to read it. Apparently, they were having a sale on Quidditch buffing kits. Well, he could certainly do with having his "broom" "polished" just then. Maybe it would help to alleviate some of this tension he'd been carrying around since finding out who his mate was destined to be…

As if summoned, his on-again, off-again friend-with-benefits, Eleri Nott, found him in that exact moment. "Hello, Scorpius," the pretty, dark-haired brunette greeted him as she stood at his side, looking into the front window and feigning interest in the sale as well.

His association with Eleri had always been one of convenience and privacy; neither of them had wanted to broadcast to the world that they'd been secretly doing the horizontal sweat-swim since Valentine's night, sixth year (after things with him and Patil had fizzled out). Scorpius' reasons were selfish, but justifiable: he didn't want Rose, the girl he'd secretly fancied, knowing he was shagging her best friend. That had been just fine by Eleri, though, who hadn't wanted Rose (or anyone else, really) to know about her and Scorpius either, as she'd rather liked being a free agent. Like most daughters of pureblood rank, she tended to keep her options open in that regard. So, for the last nine years, they'd had the perfect relationship: no emotional ties, just brilliant fucking.

Now, however, everything had changed. Today, he had a mate–

–Who hated his everlasting soul, and would gladly see him run over several dozen times by fast-moving Muggle cars.

"Hi, El," he returned, calling her by the pet name she'd allowed since childhood. "I'm not the best company right now. Kind of in a bad place, if you get me," he warned.

She hummed in consideration, clasped her hands behind her back innocently, and leaned forward to appear interested in the window display. "Need to take your mind off it for a few hours?"

Scorpius considered the proposal, knowing exactly what she was intimating. Maybe it  _would_  do him some good to work off all of this frustration.

"Sure. Why not?"

" _Accio_  or  _Point Me?_ " she asked nonchalantly.

That was their code for choosing a "safe" location to engage in their extracurricular activities that they'd adopted back when they'd first started having sex. "Accio" meant she would take him to her dormitory, "Point Me" meant he'd take her to his. Now, of course, it referred to her flat outside London and his bedroom at Malfoy Manor.

"Accio," he firmly decided, not wanting to run into his father any time soon. He knew the man would stay with the Weasley women for another hour at least, as propriety required, but then he'd head home. Scorpius didn't plan on being anywhere near that ground zero until tomorrow, at least.

Eleri nodded. "Sounds like fun." She tapped him on the shoulder in a friendly 'I'm off!' manner. "See you, Malfoy."

He nodded, and moved off in the opposite direction, feeling a bit like his old Slytherin self again.

Fifteen minutes later, he had Eleri pinned against the wall of her flat, and he was shoving his fingers into her warm pussy. Their clothes were only half-off, before she was casting the Contraceptive Spell to prevent pregnancy, and then they were stumbling to the sofa. It didn't take long, as they were both frantic for release. A few thrusts, the feel of her walls fluttering around him, her cry of ecstasy in his ear, and he was suddenly shooting his hot jizz into her with a groan.

In the aftermath, he lay panting, staring up at El's too white ceiling, and cursed silently in his head. Instead of blowing his mind, that climax had been completely unsatisfying – as tame and uninspiring as unsalted butter.

His father had tried to warn him just that morning not to think he could find fulfillment in any other woman now that he knew the identity of his intended Veela mate. He'd been advised by his grandfather as well that his whoring days were done and to cut loose any females who might be clinging to the hope of someday becoming Mrs. Scorpius Malfoy. He'd thought the two men had been exaggerating. It seemed not.

When his current bed partner quietly asked him what was wrong, Scorpius opened his mouth… and out tumbled all his secrets in a very un-Slytherin moment of weakness. All the years of pent-up feelings for Rose, of being part-Veela and the fear and uncertainty that had come with that knowledge, of his transformation, and of being thwarted at the Tea Shoppe earlier found a sounding-board in Eleri Nott.

When he was finished, Scorpius felt emotionally wrung out, like he'd just experienced some sort of at-the-crossroads emergency Mind Healing session. He also felt strangely lighter getting that tax off his chest, as if a massive load had been lifted from his shoulders. Maybe there was something to the whole, 'talk it out' movement after all.

Eleri was quiet for a long time after he'd stopped talking, he noticed. Turning his head to find out why, he noted the way she bit her bottom lip and the cunning, serpentine glimmer in her indigo-coloured eyes. Clearly, she was preparing to scheme again.

"Your problem with Rose is simple, Scor," she explained very matter-of-factly, sitting up. "She sees you for the boy you were back then, not the man you are today. If you want to win her, you're going to have to change that impression.  _BUT,_  because of her incredible stubbornness, in order to just get that chance with her, you'll need to do what any Slytherin does best: manipulate the situation."

"I'm not following you," he admitted. Sometimes, Eleri's mind worked in ways mysterious to even other women.

She sighed and rolled her eyes towards the heavens. "Look, we all know you're motivated by an extreme case of self-interest, lover boy. That fact was firmly in place the day you were born and hasn't really changed over the years. But that's not the kind of bloke Rose is attracted to. She wants someone strong, caring, as bold as a lion, a tad romantic, and self-sacrificing."

"She's told you this?" he asked.

"Don't be dense, Scorpius. It doesn't suit you," El dryly stated. "She doesn't need to say such things out loud. You only need to look at the one man in her life she respects and holds on a pedestal: her father. The man was a Gryffindor war hero who helped defeat the darkest wizard in history and then rode off into the sunset with his best school sweetheart. That's the kind of fellow Rose wants to fall head-over-heels in love with. That's the kind of man you have to become."

Scorpius considered that for a long few minutes in silence.

"I have absolutely no idea how to do that."

Eleri slapped him upside his head. "Quit channeling your father or grandfather, Scor. You've always been more like your mother deep down. You might have been trained to be Slytherin, and were placed in that House by tradition by that sodding Sorting Hat, but you and I both know you're not ambitious, cruel, or deceitful enough to be Slytherin. You really belonged in Hufflepuff, same as your mum."

At any other time, Scorpius might have taken offence to Eleri's less-than-gentle assessment of his character, but today he felt like she had hit the nail on the head. He could bite when provoked, but in general, he didn't make scheming his second hobby, after sleeping, like El did.

"You think I should be more honest with her."

Eleri nodded. "In a manner of speaking, yes. Be honest about your feelings for her – once you trap her long enough to sit still and listen, that is."

Trap her…

Scorpius' dad had mentioned some of the many perks that came with 'owning' a conscious Veela. One of those was dream walking. Apparently, Veela magic didn't just provoke a physical attraction by the mate, but an emotional and mental one as well. Scorpius wasn't clear on how such a thing was accomplished, but one thing he had understood from reading the diaries of his ancestors before him (books preserved in the Malfoy library) was that being able to enter a mate's mind while they slept or were unconscious was a magic Veela took advantage of to assure their mates were safe when they were far away from them, like on travel. Sometimes, it had even been used to seduce a mate who hadn't yet been claimed.

If he could trap Rose in a dream, confront her there and explain everything to her, then maybe he could make her understand and come to accept their situation. Perhaps he could even use the dreams to get her comfortable enough to start talking to him, rather than fighting with him – to build a friendship, and to get their second chance.

"I'd hurry if I were you, though," Eleri interrupted his planning. "You've got some major competition in your cousin again."

Scorpius' heart thumped hard behind his ribs. "What do you mean?"

"Last weekend, she bumped into Corwin at a dance club. They left together, and from what I heard from Albus, who heard it from Louis, who heard it from Lorcan and Lysander, Corwin didn't come up for air until Monday morning. I can tell you for a fact that Rose didn't surface until then either."

"Son of a–" He expelled a deep breath and slammed his hand down on the mattress. It felt as if someone had just kicked his favourite hippogriff. "Shite! That bastard had his paws on my woman – again!"

Eleri nodded. "Seems the former Prince of Gryffindor got his hands on the Crown Jewels. Still, you  _were_  the unequivocal King of Slytherin in our day. I'd say that trumps his royal 'we' any day of the week."

Yeah, he had been, hadn't he? He might not have been an ideal example of Slytherin ruthlessness during his time in school, but he'd more than earned the respect of his fellow classmates – excepting Rose, that is. Even Albus, her cousin (the 'black sheep' of her family and the only one sorted Slytherin of the bunch, but that was beside the point), had deferred to Scorpius. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve he could employ to recapture Rose's attention.

"And with Rose's bestie on my side, how can I fail?" he asked, slyly casting Eleri a glance out of the corner of his eye. "You think that for the price of half my stock in her favourite sorbet manufacturer, she could be persuaded to help me woo my mate?"

His lover stared at him in silence for a moment, considering his offer. Then, with a tight smile, she reached for his cock, stroking it into prominence. "For such a trade, plus the cost of continuing to warm your bed until you actually do mate Rose, I believe she absolutely could," she agreed. "After all, she'd be helping two of her closest friends find happiness together, and who doesn't like a happily ever after?"

"Right. Deal, then."

Reaching out, Scorpius fisted a hand through Eleri's silky, dark hair and lowered her head onto his length until she took him down her throat. As she sucked him off, he closed his eyes and like every time he had sex, he pretended his partner was Rose.

__


	4. Casualty of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose learns the truth of the Veela mating from her mother and Mr. Malfoy... Wait, how does her mum know Draco Malfoy and his Veela?
> 
> Seeking out her Aunt Fleur, Rose tries to find a way out of the mating with Scorpius.
> 
> The first mating dream-walk sets the tone for Rose and Scorpius' new relationship. CONCLUSION: NOT GOOD.
> 
> Disheartened, Rose gets together with her girl friends to pour out her woes... Huh? How come she doesn't remember getting drunk and snogging Scorpius Malfoy back in school?!
> 
> Hmmm, Hermione Granger-Weasley is sure acting strange about this whole Veela mating thing...

_**CHAPTER 4: CASUALTY OF TRUTH** _

_**Saturday, June 28th, 2031 (afternoon to night)** _

Rose slumped back in her chair, staring at the rim of the tea cup the waitress had brought in and set down before her. Her mind was whirling, the information her mother had just dropped in her lap a firestorm that would destroy her life.

One - Scorpius was a Veela.

Two – She, Rose, was supposedly his chosen mate – at least, according to him.

Three – As a result of said claim (for which there was no proof other than Scorpius' word), she was going to be forced into a legally-binding, irrevocable marriage to Scorpius this year – a marriage that would be sanctioned and enforced by the Ministry, and would last until death took one of them. She had absolutely no say in the matter, either. Her wishes, desires, personal dignity, and needs didn't count. She had no individual rights or recourse for refusal. She was, in effect, just some object to be given to a man and a magical creature (one she hadn't even  _seen_  yet), to be used, bred, and abused as they willed.

It had to be a mistake, or a terribly-timed joke, or a really bad dream, or a funky hallucination caused by the fumes from her hair tonic, because this absolutely  _couldn't_  be real. Things like this didn't happen in modern-day Britain – especially to modern-day witches who wielded modern-day functioning wands.

"Rose, darling?" Her mother laid a conciliatory hand on Rose's chilled arm, causing her to break out in goosebumps. "Say something, please. You've been silent for ten minutes now."

It was an effort to form coherent sentences. Random thoughts were all Rose could grab onto at the moment. "Please say this is all some elaborate prank." She choked on a sob, afraid it really wasn't given the manner in which her mother was behaving. "Tell me it's not true."

Scorpius' father was sincerely contrite. "I'm sorry, Miss Weasley, but what your mother has told you is not a lie. You are my son's Veela mate."

"But… but… he  _hates_  me," she stammered, her breath hitching, her body twitching and shaking as the protection that her earlier shock had provided now began to fade. "And Corwin," she mumbled, feeling tears of frustration threatening to ruin her eye make-up and turn her blotchy. "We're together, mum."

Mr. Malfoy sucked in a sharp breath. "You're seeing Corwin McLaggen?"

Rose nodded.

He looked at her with something akin to pity and simply said, "I'm sorry."

She fumed over his response.

He was sorry. Sorry for which part, exactly? Was he sorry that his son was taking away her personal autonomy, turning her into nothing more than chattel? Sorry that her body, her future, and her dreams were no longer hers to own as she willed? Sorry that his family was responsible for doing this same thing to a slew of other women before her?

She may not know the circumstances under which those other Malfoy mates had accepted their lot, but she was certainly not going to accept that she was some piece of property to be traded at will! She was a human being, and they lived in an egalitarian state, and international law stated that she had unalienable, fundamental rights to her own person. This wasn't the ancient world, and as an adult woman who no longer lived with her family, she wasn't subject to something as archaic and outmoded as  _patria potestas_ , either (not that her father would ever have dared such a heavy-handed tactic being married to someone like her liberal-minded mother).

There had to be a way out of this farce of a mating! There just  _had_ to be!

"Look, none of this makes sense. Your family has always prided itself on its pure-blood status, Mister Malfoy," she stated, looking Scorpius' father in the eye. "Not to bring up old news, but you fought on the wrong side of a war to keep people like my mother from even practising magic. Now you want me to believe that all of that was a sham – some clever ruse to cover up the truth about your not-so-pureblood-Veela heritage? Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it. Where's your proof? I demand substantiation before I'll even consider something as ludicrous as–"

She stopped short as across the table, Draco Malfoy's eyes began to glow. His grey gaze shot to Rose's mum, and the irises began to swirl, transforming. A blink later, they appeared almost alien, the colour a pearlised liquid silver that no ordinary human, wizarding or Muggle, could hope to replicate without the aid of CGI. Eerie shadows crept forward from the corners of the room to gather around him, slithering across his pale cheeks and settling around the lids of his eyes, giving him a more feral appearance. When he spoke, his voice was an odd amalgamation of two entities – the man he was and a deeper, more sultry-sounding voice belonging to someone else entirely.

"Hermione…"

Next to her, her mum stiffened in her chair. Her eyes had gone wide, and her cheeks were flushed with blood. "Veela." She sounded out of breath. "It's been a long time."

An arrogant, sexy smirk turned up the corner of his lips. "We'll catch up later. Don't you worry, Granger."

He closed his eyes then, and the shadows retreated. When he opened his lids again, he was back to normal.

Silence reigned as Rose took in what she'd just seen and heard. Her heart pounded in her chest, threatening to choke her as her entire world crashed down around her ears.

It was true, wasn't it? Everything she'd been told. The Malfoys were part-Veela, and Scorpius was… Oh, God. This was really going to happen, whether she liked it or not! She was  _really_  going to have to give up Corwin, the boy of her dreams, and be forced to marry and have sex with his awful cousin, the boy who had tormented her for years. She was going to lose everything that mattered to her most, including her personal freedom. She was going to become nothing more than a brood mare.

No, no,  _NO!_  There had to be a way out of it.

A way out…

She was going about this all wrong, wasn't she? Scorpius was Slytherin, as was his father before him, and so on down the line. Their kind appreciated the defeat of an enemy's pride, and they liked making deals. Perhaps she could offer the Malfoys something in exchange for making this whole thing go away?

It was worth a try.

"I have a counter proposal: if Scorpius wants to see me humiliated, I'll be willing to… to get on my knees and kiss his hands and feet in apology," she bargained. "I'll take an ad in the papers publicly apologising for every single cruel thing I've said or done to him, then I'll stay out of his way for the rest of his life. He'll never have to see me again."

To her chagrin, her host began shaking his head in earnest disapproval. "It doesn't work like that, Miss Weasley. You can't buy your way out."

Her hands were trembling as she clasped them together in front of her, praying for a blessing to save her from this doom. "I... I'll give him every Snitch I've ever kept from every game I've ever played. He can have them all – and all the money I've earned from Quidditch over the years," she frantically bargained.

"Miss Weasley-"

"I'll… I'll even sleep with him, if he wants!"

Her mother gasped at such a scandalous suggestion, but Rose didn't let that deter her. Her desperation levels had hit the ceiling and at this point, she'd do whatever it took to get out of this fix.

"I'll be his in any way he wants for a whole day and night. No, for a whole week! That should satisfy his need for revenge against me, shouldn't it?"

Her mother put a comforting hand over hers and she knew then there would be nothing she could offer to fix this. The world– _her own mother, even!_ –had turned against her. "Darling, this isn't something you can negotiate," her mum softly explained. "And Scorpius isn't doing this to hurt or humble you. He doesn't have a choice, either."

"Miss Weasley, once the ancient magic picks a solid match for the Veela from among the viable pool of witches, there's nothing to be done," Scorpius' father reiterated. "At that point, the pairing becomes the province of God, or Merlin, or Fate – whichever you choose to believe."

"No, I don't want this! Doesn't that matter?" she refuted, slamming her fist on the table and making the china rattle about. "There has to be a way to quit this... this travesty! I demand a divorce, or whatever it's called before you actually marry someone! I want one of those right now!"

Rose's stubborn insistence was clearly beginning to try even Mr. Malfoy's patience. The man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Being mated to a Veela isn't the same as human marriage, Rose. It's a biological, chemical, magical,  _and_  spiritual bonding. From the moment my son saw you were to become his mate, your souls began to resonate. Distance or the fact you're in a relationship with someone else doesn't affect the magic. Haven't you noticed your interest in Corwin waning over the last few days?"

Dear Merlin, she had!

"From this point forward, you and Scorpius are going to be drawn to each other on every level. It begins with intense attraction, because that's where a Veela's power and innate talent resides. As the days pass, your desire for each other will only increase. The more you interact, the deeper your bond will become and the faster your feelings will shift to align with the Veela's. Even without the backing of the Ministry law behind it, it's not something you're going to be able to deny or fight."

Having heard enough propagandising, Rose clenched her teeth and stood up, reaching deep into the well of her darkest anger and grabbing hold of that fury for strength. "Just watch me!" she snarled, grabbing her clutch and running from the restaurant. As she hurried to the Disapparation point, she dashed her tears away with swift hands, collecting her thoughts.

If anyone could give her the truth of the matter, and perhaps even help her find a way out of her predicament, it would be her Aunt Fleur. The woman was part-Veela, as were all three of her children.

**X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X**

"I am sorry,  _ma petite_ , but as much as I know, zee Veela mating eeze… how you say? Unbreakable," her aunt explained in exacting honesty, refilling her cup from the contents of the teapot in the centre of the table. She added a dash of sweet by plunking a sugar cube into the cup for good measure. "My Dominique would know more. She eez expert on all zings Veela, but... zees man, you say he eeze zee son of zat reformed Death Eater,  _non_?"

Rose nodded, feeling both cold inside and out. She'd bet all her hope on Fleur knowing a way to break the enchantment between she and Scorpius, but it seemed her aunt was actually rather happy with the idea of Rose having a Veela mating of her own, despite the past connection her mate's family had to the Dark Arts and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

"Well, zat eeze zee past," the blonde stated, waving a hand in the air as if the issue was of no significance. "Zee sins of zee father are not his,  _oui?_  Besides, things change."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Rose demanded. She exploded to her feet, angry, and began furiously pacing back and forth in the narrow space between her aunt's dining table and the wall. "Sometimes, a person's past–the bad things they do–should be held against them! Some things may be unforgivable!"

Fleur's piercing blue eyes stopped her in her tracks, and Rose floundered for a moment under the weight of so hard a stare. "Eef zat was true I would not have married Bill." Her aunt indicated the vacated chair across from her. "Sit. I will tell you a secret."

Hesitantly, Rose resumed her seat and sat quietly, listening.

Sipping from her tea to whet her lips, her Aunt Fleur took a moment more to gather her courage. She cleared her throat, and then launched into her tale. "When I first met your Oncle Bill, he was mean to me. He refused to do as I wished. He made me get my own coffee and pastry. He would not serve me as so many other men did. He meanly called me 'princess' and 'your Majesty' in zee mocking voice. We fought all zee time. I was horrible to him back. At first, we were… how you say?… oil and water."

"Sounds familiar," Rose murmured.

"One afternoon, I caught Bill having sex with another woman at work. I was so angry I hex them both. I was nineteen, so I did not know my Veela yet, but I know after zat I was jealous. You see,  _ma petite,_  inside my heart, I knew Bill was to be mine one day."

"What do you mean you didn't know your Veela yet?" Rose asked, curious.

She knew practically nothing about the Veela aside from what she'd learned in her classes back at school – which was curiously very little about their life cycles and breeding habits. Mostly, she knew the generalities about them and their military history.

In her Defence Against the Dark Arts and Magical Creatures classes, she'd learned that Veela were an extraordinarily beautiful species with humanoid features, that they were experts at glamours and enchanting (especially when it came to spells for sexual attraction), and that they were known to be extremely jealous, especially of each other (which was part of the reason there weren't many of them left, she supposed). Of the genders, it was said the females were the ones to be feared, as they were easily agitated, and when they transformed, their harpy-like appearances and vicious displays of temper were legendary.

According to her History of Magic textbook, Rose recalled that the Veela had at one time ruled much of modern day Turkey. Back then, they'd been a united kingdom governed by a hereditary monarchy – specifically, a lineage of blood-related Queens. When their last beloved ruler, Penthesilea, was killed at the battle of Troy, however, their kingdom fell into chaos. After the Trojan War finally ended a decade later, the Greeks turned on those who had aided the Trojans – including the Veela. With their army of human wizards and witches hiding amongst the regular soldiers, the Greeks were able to easily defeat both the Veela's male army, called the Elohim, and that of their female army, who were known as the Amazons. After that, there was a diaspora of the Veela. Some settled in Gaul – now known as France, while others settled in northern Europe and even Russia.

And that was about the extent of her knowledge, aside from knowing that her Aunt Fleur's family on the female side were all part-Veela.

"In a half-breed, zee female Veela eeze like... how do you say? A twin inside," her aunt explained, tapping her chest. "Eet sleeps until we are twenty years. Zen, it wakes up."

"Twenty years?" Rose asked, confused. "I thought it was twenty-five."

Fleur shook her head. "For zee female Veela, eet eeze twenty. For zee male, eet eeze twenty-five."

Well, that was strangely contrasting. If the species needed to reproduce, female Veela would reach the age of sexual maturity faster than their male counterparts. What possible biological advantage could that give them, especially since Veelas only took a single mate in their lifetime?

"I do not know why this eeze. As I say, Dominique eeze studying zee Veela to become expert on zee species. You should ask her."

She would, eventually. Right now, Rose was more curious about how a Veela and a human worked together in one body so she could understand how to possibly distract Scorpius away from what his Veela was demanding. "Going back to what you said earlier: you've got someone else living in your head and body now that your Veela's woken up?"

" _Non,_  eet is not separate," Fleur replied. "Eet is part of me. Eet is like how a Werewolf eeze – two living in one. Oh, zat is bad example!" She clucked her tongue in dissatisfaction, then turned to her cat, who was perched in the window, lazily soaking up the sun. "Zee Veela eeze like zee cat. Inside zee house, zee cat is like this." She pointed to her domesticated pet. "But outside, eet's instincts take over. Eet becomes a beast zat focusses all on catching zee bird. Zee Veela inside me eeze like that once it wakes up. Zen, once I mate and make  _le bébé_ , eet sleeps again. Eet wakes up only when eet desires to mate."

Rose watched her Aunt's eyes suddenly turn inward and a frown mar her pretty features as she considered a bad memory.

"Zee desire to mate in many creatures eeze zee strong pull, and sometimes eet consumes zee soul." She sombrely turned her baby-blues on Rose. "Eet eeze what I meant earlier by a secret. You see,  _ma petite,_  I love Bill with all my heart, but he was never zee same after being attacked by zat monster, Greyback." She sighed, and dropped her attention to playing with the edge of her tea napkin in a nervous gesture. "When we married, we were so in love –  _c'est_   _magnifique_ _!_  My Veela accepted him as a mate, and we were happy. But zen, there came zee Harvest Moon zat Fall. Bill… changed. Not into zee wolf form, but eet was like he  _was_ Werewolf. He was… violent. He forced himself on me many times zat night." Fleur's lips were tight, her spine rigid, her eyes focused on the wall to the left and behind Rose. Clearly, the memory of her assault was still very painful for her. "His inside wolf was frenzied to mate me. Eet was horrible. Zee next day, I left him. I knew I was pregnant from what he did. A Veela always knows when she conceives. I almost did not forgive."

Rose's throat threatened to close up on her. How awful would it be if Scorpius were to do something similar to her! "What made you go back?" she asked her aunt.

Fleur's lips turned up in a sad smile. "Even though I am human, in my heart, I am also mated Veela. I cannot live without Bill. He eeze my soul."

"But he  _hurt_ you!" Rose protested, not understanding. How could Fleur have wanted to go back to such a brutal relationship?

Fleur put a warm hand over hers to silence her. "Zee call of zee wolf to breed his mate was… how you say? More intense from zee red moon. I understand this. He could not stop himself." She removed her hand and took another sip of her tea. "Zee point eeze, _ma petite_ , I forgive Bill for hurting me. He was not in control. His wolf owned him that night. I love him with all I am. If I had stayed away and broken zee Veela bond, unlike male Veela, I could have survived. But neither would be happy again, and  _mes_ _bébés,_ Victoire and Dominique and Louis would not have been born."

Rose clung to the one thing her Aunt had just said, feeling a spark of hope ignite in her chest. "So, there is a way to break a Veela bond?"

Fleur looked at her evenly for a moment, and then shook her head firmly. "I absolute do not recommend zees idea, Rose. Veela are  _très_  possessive of their mate once they have gone through zee ritual and zee magic has chosen zee person. You would either have to go far away and keep running forever, for your Malfoy would stop at nothing to find you, or you would have to get pregnant with another man's  _bébé,_ which could make your Malfoy go mad and kill you and zee other man now zat he knows you are his. And zee Ministry… they  _will not_  allow you to escape from a Veela once you are known as zee mate. They will force zee bonding ceremony – and in front of others to… how do you say? Witness. I do not think you want such a thing to be public, as zee first mating eeze very intense. If you get pregnant to escape your Malfoy, zee Ministry will not allow zee  _bébé_ to be born. Zee law is very strict."

The hollow, sinking feeling in Rose's gut nearly made her vomit on the spot. "So, let me get this straight: if I don't mate with Scorpius, and I try to run from him, he'll hunt me down. If he doesn't kill me himself, the Ministry will help him drag me back in chains to be his obedient little sex slave. If I try to trick him and get pregnant with another man's baby, and Malfoy doesn't kill all of us in a fit of jealous rage, the Ministry will force me to have an abortion. And after all is said and done, they'll still force me into some kind of barbaric, sexual ritual in front of a room full of voyeurs to ensure he raped me properly?" She clenched her teeth in fury. "What kind of fucked up world are we living in? This is not the Dark Ages!"

Fleur tilted her head casually, but her eyes had darkened perceptively, and her face was tight with anger. "If you reject your Malfoy now zat he knows you are his mate, you will… how you say? Condemn him. He will go mad. He will have to be killed. This is why zee Ministry eeze so unforgiving."

Heated resentment over her predicament bubbled up inside Rose. "It's not fair! I don't want to marry him! I don't love him! I love someone else!"

Her Aunt's hand on hers again was calming, gentle. " _Ma petite_ , I fought my fate, too. I knew Bill was mine zee moment I caught him with that other woman, but I still refused him then. He was so poor, and he dressed funny, and he didn't treat me as other men. But over time, zat feeling changed. When my Veela came awake and picked him, I knew eet was fate." Those small, pale hands patted Rose's fingers kindly. "True, you will never be able to love this other man as you will your Malfoy once you have accepted him. Zee bond between Veela and mate eeze more than simple human marriage. Eet eeze a soul binding."

Hot tears burned her eyes. Rose put her head down over her Aunt's hands and wept. "Doesn't what I want matter at all? And Scorpius… he hates me!"

Her Aunt's free hand began softly stroking her hair, soothing and tender. " _Non, ma petite._  Your Malfoy will love you with all he eeze, if you will let him. He already does I think. Eet is why zee mating magic chose you.  _Destin sait mieux, oui?_  – Destiny knows best, yes?"

**X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X**

The dreams began that night.

One moment, Rose was closing her eyes. The next, she was sitting on a park bench surrounded by grass in a very well-manicured, indoor garden filled with the same varietal flowers as her namesake. Every color was represented, and the shapes were astounding – some delicate and open, others tightly budded, small blooms and large both. Light poured in from above, through a rounded window turret. The glass surrounding the vast greenhouse was spotless, and the air a little humid. Various species of butterfly danced from bloom to bloom, landing on delicate petals and sipping sweet nectar.

"Beautiful."

She recognized the voice instantly, and knew this had to be a dream, because there was no way in the Seven Hells that she could be anywhere near the real Scorpius Malfoy right now without wanting to throttle him. With a sigh, she watched a Painted Lady butterfly, its orange and black patterned wings fluttering in a stately rhythm. It drank its fill from a gorgeous pink tea hybrid rose nearby.

"Yes, they are," she replied.

He crossed to her. She still didn't look up, but could feel his body heat closing in on her. On the grass before her, his shadow crossed hers at an angle. "I didn't mean the butterflies or the flowers."

Rose ground her teeth together in irritation. "Why are  _you_  in my dreams? I don't want to see you right now."

He was silent for a moment. "I know."

"I hate you and what you're forcing on me."

"I know." He sounded contrite. "I'm sorry, Rose. Believe me, I didn't expect this either."

Those hateful tears prickled her eyes again and she sniffed, wiping them away. "Then let me go. Pick someone else."

His sigh was resigned and his shadow shifted as he nervously transferred his weight from one foot to the other. "I can't, even if I wanted to. This… it happened a long time ago and it can't be undone."

Popping up from the bench, she snarled at him, "You did it, so you can bloody well undo it! So help me, I'll make your life miserable if you force me into this, Malfoy, I swear it!" The sunlight directly in her eyes made it hard to see his features, and she had to squint and put up a hand as a shield from its strong rays. "I will not be your little sex slave, chained to you against my will!"

"I wouldn't want you to be!" he growled, simultaneously moving to block the sun for her so she could put her hand down. His blue, cotton t-shirt–Muggle style, to her amazement–was drawn tightly over his chest and tucked neatly into a pair of snug Muggle jeans. He was barefoot, and seemed undaunted by that fact. She had to admit, he looked quite handsome in casual clothes, too.

"I want this to be good between us, Rose. Why do you think I tried to talk to you today? But you wouldn't have any of it, would you?"

Rose's chest tightened. "This isn't a dream, is it?"

Scorpius stared stonily at her. "You're sleeping right now, so yes, this is a dream. I'm just visiting."

"You're controlling my dream, though, aren't you?" she accused, horrified by the thought. How could he have any sort of influence over her unconscious mind? Was this a sign that the bond between them that Mr. Malfoy and her Aunt had described was growing stronger? Merlin, how much control over her did he already possess? "Somehow you've forced me in here!"

"Not much force was required, baby. You opened right up for me."

She panicked, looking around for a way out. "Let me go, Scorpius! Get out of my head! LET ME GO RIGHT NOW!"

Malfoy stepped past her and took a seat on the stone bench she'd just vacated, straddling it and getting comfortable. "Not until we've had our talk, Weasley. You owe me this much."

"I owe you nothing!  _NOTHING!_ " she screamed at him, clenching her fists. Tears gathered in her eyes and her lungs burned as she gulped down great, heaving breaths. "You've wrecked everything for me! I'm seeing someone else, was falling in love with him, and now that's all ruined because of your sodding claim on me!" She pressed her hands over her eyes. "You've destroyed my life, Malfoy, and I hate you for it!"

He was quiet for a moment, but she could feel his resentment boring into her.

"You'll get over it, baby. I certainly have to."

In three steps, she crossed the distance between him. Drawing back her hand, she let it fly with all the force she could muster. It was the hardest slap she'd ever delivered and it made her palm sting. Scorpius' cheek turned with the force of the blow.

A beat later, he had her in his arms, moving so fast, she hadn't even seen him coming. He dragged her down to the grass, and sat upon her with all his weight, holding her wrists by her ears with hardly any effort. Looking up at his infuriated countenance, feeling so utterly overwhelmed by the sheer strength in his grip and thighs, Rose was suddenly very terrified.

"I tolerated your abuse when we were children, Rose, but no more. Never hit me again," he warned in a calm, but firm tone.

He lowered his face towards her, and it was clear where he was aiming – right for her mouth.

"Don't," she pleaded, choking on her fear and humiliation.

He stopped half an inch from her lips, and as she gazed up at him, his irises began to glow. The colour swirled and became fluidic, liquid mercury. "Why do you deny us, pretty mate?" he asked her... only, it wasn't just him talking to her now. As with his father earlier that afternoon, Scorpius' voice was an odd amalgamation of two voices: his own, and another deeper, more seductive voice that clearly belonged to his Veela.

The beast had come forward to introduce itself to her at last.

Rose was instantly terrified. Her fight-or-flight instincts kicked into overdrive and she struggled with everything she had to break the hold on her, but Scorpius and his Veela were unnaturally strong. "Let go of me!" she shouted, her tears making everything before her wavy and indistinct.

Their grip on her wrists tightened, preventing her escape. "We don't wish to hurt you, Rose. Stop fighting us."

"No,  _NO!"_  She was starting to lose it to panic. Her chest constricted, her breathing grew laboured, and she squirmed and bucked like an animal in a trap.

The Veela sighed, as if disappointed by her continued resistance. He laid his head down in the crook of her shoulder and released some of his glamour into the air.

It only took a minute for her struggles to cease and for her desire to flair to life instead. His alluring, aphrodisiac-like magic wound itself around her and saturated her skin, causing her body to ignite with flames of need. Her fear was instantly forgotten, transforming into arousal. Deep inside her head, her mind was shouting to her the reminder that she'd been tricked and not to give in, but a powerful sexual greed overrode that voice of reason. She moaned and rubbed her lower body against his.

"You see, love? There's nothing to fear. You want us," Scorpius and his creature together spoke with the utmost assurance. His nose moved along her cheek as he sniffed her, inhaling her dream-self's scent deeply into his nostrils and imprinting upon it. "Say the word and we will come to you tonight and mate you. Then, you won't be afraid of us any longer."

Rose swallowed three times before she found her voice. "It's not real desire. You're compelling me to with your freaky Veela magic. I don't really want you."

Those alien eyes looked down at her with frustration.

"I'll never forgive you for it if you force me into your bed, especially like this," she promised him, fighting against her body's eagerness to hump against him like mad.

Her 'mate' seemed confused for a moment, and then he shut his eyelids with what appeared to be pain. Scorpius' breathing accelerated, and his face scrunched up as if he were struggling against his own nature. "I know," he grit, his voice solo once again. Sweat dotted his forehead and a moment later, with a violent shudder, the shadows withdrew from Malfoy's face, the Veela retreating. Panting, Scorpius cracked open his eyelids. His eyes were normal once more. He looked tired, however, as if all the strength had been sapped from him. Limbs shaking, he collapsed atop her, his grip on her wrists going slack. "I don't want to force this. I want to court you... properly," he murmured. "I don't want to take you. I want you to want me back."

Rose's heart gave a sharp lurch at the regret in Malfoy's tone. He'd always been so caustic and swaggeringly arrogant in the past, but now he sounded, well,  _scared_. This was a side of Scorpius she wasn't sure she was prepared to experience. She wasn't certain what to do or say either, afraid of a resurgence of his animalistic side.

As his Veela had retreated back to wherever it came from inside him, the cloud of fear that had suffocated her had dissipated as well. Wrung out by the high adrenaline rush and her physical efforts, Rose wilted, too. Quietly, the two lay together for a long time, with him mounted atop her in a very intimate position, as if they were preparing for sex. Yet, he made no move to take advantage of their awkward arrangement, except to get the strength back in his elbows to take some of the pressure off her chest.

"Sorry about that," he said in apology for nearly crushing her. "He's a bit overwhelming and it takes a lot to rein him in."

She stared up into Scorpius' face and was startled by how open he was to her in that moment. "You really didn't arrange this purposefully, did you?" she asked.

"Not consciously, no." With a flexing of his biceps and shoulders, he was able to lift himself up until they were nose-to-nose again. "Father says… he said the Veela within me picked you as its equal, magically speaking, the moment we first met. That it was the reason I was compelled to seek you out on the train and try to introduce myself to you." He licked his lips and swallowed heavily. "I swear to you, Rose, I never meant for this to happen. I was as shocked as you were at the choice."

To her astonishment, there was no lie in his lovely, human eyes. "I believe you," she murmured, suddenly entranced by the lips that were only a breath away from hers. They were such nicely shaped lips, pillow soft, and more than ample for kissing…

She blinked. What was the hell was she thinking?

"Your Veela magic is still pouring all over me. Can you turn it off?"

Scorpius seemed confused by that. His brows lowered and his gaze shot to the side, as if he were conversing with the beast inside his head. A moment later, he was back. "He says he isn't doing it, and I have no idea if I even can without him. I only came into this birthright less than a week ago. I'm still figuring it out. Sorry, if I'm affecting you still. I'm not sure how to stop that."

As if realizing just then how intimate a position they were in, Scorpius' breathing slowed.

They warily watched each other in silence for a while.

"I'll make you a deal, Rose," he finally murmured, his fingers moving to play with her hair. "Meet me here regularly in the dream world, so we can get to know each other a little better and I promise not to push us to mate in the real world until you're comfortable with the idea. As I wanted to offer today, maybe we can start over and we can both get a second chance to make things right."

Rose was about to protest, but Scorpius gently placed two fingers over her lips to shush her up. "This is our reality now, baby. I'd like to make it as pleasant for both of us as possible." Quicker than she could track, he was off her and on his feet again, staring down at her. "As you are aware, the alternative is not so pleasant, but the outcome would be the same."

Her anger returning at the implied threat, Rose sat up, rearing for round two. "You're threatening to rape me," she hissed as her fury began boiling to the surface again. She got to her feet and lifted her chin, refusing to be cowed. "I will not have anything to do with you, you bastard!"

Malfoy didn't move as she headed for the glass door to the fantasy conservatory he'd constructed. He turned with her, tracking her movements, but didn't follow.

"You can walk away – hell, you can run, if you want, but it won't change a thing, Rose," he warned. "We're both trapped by this mating, and although I wouldn't want to force you into it, I will if I have to."

At that, she abruptly stopped and whirled around to face him, ready for the end-all-be-all of cat fights. "You try any tricks or to take me by violence, and I'll make you regret the day you were born, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy! I'll invent a curse just for you!"

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly aggravated with her. "You just don't get it, do you? The Veela  _needs_  to bond with you soon. He doesn't understand human courtship and doesn't recognise its law. It's his instinct to claim a mate – you. He can no more turn away from that duty than you can willingly put aside your magic. He needs you to complete him, to keep him sane by calming his inner beast. Only a mate can do this for a Veela. It's who they are!"

He closed his eyes and quivered rather violently again, and when his lids lifted once more, his Veela had once more come forward to share Scorpius' body. He tilted his head like a predatory bird-like manner and looked at her with blatant hunger. "We  _will_ have you, mate. We've waited a long time for you. You are ours."

"Go to hell, you monster!" she snarled, balling her fists and holding them before her in a defensive stance. She knew shit-all about fist fighting, but she'd give it her all if pushed.

She needn't have bothered. Scorpius didn't move from his spot. Instead, a bitter smirk twisted his lips. "Too late, love," he informed her softly. "We are already there."

In a blink, he was gone, and the indoor garden perceptibly darkened. Everything around her melted into shadow, until all was black and she fell once more into the realm of unconsciousness.

Despite having her mind returned to her control, Rose's sleep was not relaxing after that. Several times during the night, she awoke sweating, her body burning with arousal that, try as she might, she could not completely alleviate. Three self-induced climaxes over the long hours until dawn and it  _still_ wasn't enough to quell the aching lust that seared through her veins as the Veela's residual magic left her body. It took another hour and a cold shower after her waking for that to happen.

Malfoy, it seemed, wasn't the only one in hell. Apparently, some of the things he did to her in the dream world had repercussions in the real one. She feared what that meant if he were to actually kiss her the next time he barged into her slumbering mind.

**X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X**

_**Sunday, June 29th, 2031 (morning-afternoon)** _

A sip from a Draught of Peace had allowed Rose to finally catch some sleep that morning after drying off from her icy shower. She awoke around noon, and immediately Floo-called her girlfriends, asking for them to meet her in the Alley for a little bitch-therapy session.

As she surrounded herself with her support group for a little cold, sweet comfort at Fortescue's, Rose realized that she felt little better than she had yesterday. Even with Eleri, Alicia, Holly, Shannon, and her cousins, Lily, Lucy, and Molly surrounding her at the round café table, sharing in the healing power that was chocolate ice cream and hot fudge, she was uncharacteristically glum. Her girls were consoling her with kind words of sympathy as she poured out her soul, explaining the horrid situation she now found herself forced into as Malfoy's mate, but none of the compassionate gestures or words, nor the uplifting potential of gelato, seemed to help remove the veil of depression that blanketed her heart.

"There's nothing to be done at all?" Lucy asked again. "Even your mum can't help?"

Rose shook her head, practically in tears over the situation. "I'm going to lose Corwin. It took me so long to find him again, and he's… Merlin, I was falling in serious love with him." Now she was sobbing, hiding away behind her hands. "If I hadn't let him go years back, we might be married by now and Malfoy would have to look elsewhere."

Molly petted her arm in a conciliatorily fashion. "Rosie, I don't think it works like that. You said that Aunt Fleur told you that a Veela's mate is determined from the moment they meet, and Malfoy confirmed that for you last night." She shook her head. "I think you'd have been made to divorce Corwin if things had worked out as you envision, and that would hurt  _far_  worse."

Rose slumped in her chair, feeling defeated. "Why me? Why did that bastard's magic choose me? He knows I've always loathed the very sight of him!"

There was a pregnant pause, and the following silence was oddly strained.

Finally, someone spoke up.

"Do you?"

Rose jerked her head around to spear Eleri with a glance that was part-astonishment, part-incredulity. How could her best friend even ask her that? She knew better than anyone how Rose felt about Scorpius Malfoy.

"What? Yes, of course! Why would you even have to ask?"

Her dark-haired friend gave her a piercing, significant look. "I remember quite clearly that all you ever seemed to do back in school was talk about Quidditch, Prefect duties, your studies, and Malfoy – the last more than any other topic. You even managed to somehow work him into the other three topics any time you could manage it. It was always 'Scorpius,  _this_ ,' or "Scorpius,  _that_.' You schemed incessantly about how to get even with him for the smallest slight or how to put one over on him in some fashion or another." She held up a hand to cut off Rose, who was about to launch into a long-winded, well-rehearsed explanation. "No, let me finish. You can tear me up afterwards." Those odd lavender-coloured eyes seemed to stare right into Rose's soul, making her quite uncomfortable. "You were furious every time he switched girlfriends, too, commenting about how you felt sorry for his witches for being so easily tricked. That kind of jealousy and animosity smacks of obsession and attraction, not hate, Rose."

Molly picked up the baton next. "Hate to say it, Rosie, but Eleri is right. You were rather preoccupied with Malfoy's comings and goings from day one. He was the topic of practically every conversation. You've never stopped following his story, either." She absently shook her long, dyed blonde bangs off her forehead. "Since the day you graduated, every time you've see him mentioned in  _Witch Weekly_  or  _The Daily Prophet_ or some other rag, you've blown your stack. That kind of anger, the years of antagonism… it's like some sort of twisted foreplay."

Rose couldn't believe her ears. She nearly launched into a scathing rejoinder of the indictments from her friends when Lily's metal spoon clinked against her fluted sundae glass rather loudly. "Rosie, we've all seen it for years, but I think it's safe to say that none of us wanted to send you 'round the bend by being the first to question your behaviour. Now, though, I think it's time you admit it: you've got a thing for Scorpius Malfoy. You always have."

Alicia nodded in agreement to the assessment, lips pursed together in silent apology.

Holly and Shannon traded a look and both shrugged simultaneously. "Agreed," they spoke as one, staring at Rose with something akin to pity.

Glancing between her cousins and girlfriends–the women who were supposed to be on her side–Rose felt the stab of betrayal go deep. "You bitches," she sighed in melodramatic anguish, and sat back in her chair, laying her head against the padding and staring up at the ceiling. "I hate all of you. You're not supposed to be on his side! You're supposed to help me find a way out of this mess,  _and_  help me curse him out, too!"

Next to her, Lucy took one of her hands in her own, petting it. "I love you, Rosie, and you know I'm behind you no matter what you do, but I really think you should consider what's being said here. I know Malfoy was a git a lot of the time. I remember your screaming matches, and the hexes flying back and forth, and the wads of paper you'd throw at each other in classes to flip each other off. But Rosie, I think it's safe to say he had a thing for you, too, beyond all of this Veela stuff. You might not have noticed it, but everyone else did. The boy couldn't take his eyes off of you for a minute during school."

"Yeah, remember that party in seventh year just after N.E.W.T.s finished, when everyone was pissed on the Firewhisky Marcus Zabini snuck in?" Alicia reminded them. She pointed her spoon at Rose. "Malfoy talked you into following him into an empty corridor in the dungeons that night. Drunk as he was, he obviously intended to get you alone for a purpose. If Marshall Macmillan hadn't accidentally stumbled across you two swapping tonsils, you probably would have given your vee-jay up to him right there in the hallway, too."

Rose blinked, confused, her mind a total blank as to that alleged incident. "I don't remember that ever happening!"

Alicia snorted. "I'm not surprised. You were so drunk that when you crawled back to Ravenclaw tower later that night, I'm told you needed help getting from your common room up to your dorm."

"What did that wanker, Macmillan say I did?" Rose demanded.

"He said Scor had you against the wall and your lips were plastered to his, while his hand was up your skirt," Alicia relayed. "Meanwhile, your hands were having a party in his pants. You were wanking him like his meat was on the menu, witch."

Rose's head began to ache. She rubbed her temples to alleviate the pain. "You're lying! That couldn't have happened," she refuted, but was stopped short from a fantastic rant on the subject by a unanimous round of nodding from everyone at the table. Clearly, consensus was that Rose had indeed done just as Alicia had stated. Lowering her voice, she leaned in and hissed at her friends. "Fucking hell! You  _absolute_ bitches! You let that man-whore frig me and never told me so I could kick his arse later for it?"

Holly spoke up then, finishing the last of her side of a banana split with her twin. "None of us had the brass-ones to tell you then," she stated, putting down her spoon and wiping her mouth with her napkin.

"So instead, we blackmailed Marshall so he wouldn't report it," Shannon completed the thought.

Holly snickered. "Turns out, the goody-good Head Boy wasn't quite as innocent as he'd professed."

Her twin nodded in full agreement and the two burst into wicked laughter, but did not elaborate further.

"Malfoy didn't seem to remember the incident at all when I fished around the next day," Alicia finished the tale. "He was as drunk as you were that night, so we all believed your secret was safe. Why upset you then and possibly bring shame down upon you? Better to let sleeping dogs lie and chalk it up to a mistake."

Rose's jaw practically hit the floor. "I can't believe this! Betrayed by my own friends!"

Across the table, Eleri cleared her throat. "Regardless of the past, the fact of the matter is, Rose, that the laws on Veela mates are clear, aren't they? You don't have a choice about this mating and marriage. The Ministry is going to enforce it, whether you want it or not." She nervously adjusted her small, silver bowl that contained only remnants of her dessert now. "However, you do have a choice about how you go into this relationship with Malfoy. If you want a happy life, you're going to have to put what happened at Hogwarts behind you, and see what Scor has to offer you now." She shrugged, her attention fixated on the red, cotton napkin she'd politely folded up and placed next to her dish. "Who knows? He might surprise you."

Rose shook her head. "I don't want to have any kind of a life with Scorpius Malfoy! I'm already half in love with Corwin McLaggen!"

Lucy held her hand a little tighter. "Rose–"

Pulling her hand away quickly, Rose firmly shook her head again. "Absolutely not! I'm not giving up on my dream guy for the man who spent all of our childhood tormenting me! I'm just going to have to dig deeper and hope I can find some obscure rule or reference to breaking a mating bond legally, so that if he comes at me, I'll have the Ministry's protection, not its coercion."

Slamming her fist down on the table, she sat up straight in her chair. A path and purpose were laid out before her, and she refused to wallow in self-pity any longer. She'd find a way, or she wasn't a Weasley!

"I spent all our school years beating Malfoy. I won't let that spoiled, womanizing bastard win this time either!"

**X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X**

_**Sunday, June 29th, 2031 (late afternoon-evening)** _

Rose Floo'd to her mum's cottage that evening, hoping to get some legal advice and possibly convince the woman into helping her do some research into breaking Veela mate bonds.

"Mum? Are you here?" she called out, but there was no answer. "Mum?"

Not finding her in the small, comfortable living area, she prowled through the back hallway, opening each door, calling out for her mother. When she arrived at her mother's bedroom, she stopped, eyes taking in the mess before her. An array of pant suits, dresses, skirts, and blouses were flung haphazardly on the bed. Some were inside-out, as if tried on hastily and discarded as unacceptable. Matching jewellery pieces were similarly strewn around the coverlet. Shoes were tossed into a pile near the dresser. Clearly, her mum had been attempting to put together a nice outfit for a date tonight.

The idea made her chuckle, until she tried to envision the possible male options. Only one sprang immediately to mind _…_

_"I could never forget anything about you."_

_"We'll catch up later. Don't you worry, Granger."_

Oh, no.

No, no, NO!

Her mother could not do that to her! She couldn't!

_"Hermione…"_

_Next to her, her mum stiffened in her chair. Her eyes had gone wide, and her cheeks were flushed with blood. "Veela." She sounded out of breath. "It's been a long time."_

Jesus Christ on a cracker! If her mum got together with Mr. Malfoy, it would just make it more difficult for Rose to escape Scorpius' influence. Hell, knowing her mother, the woman would insist upon another 'double-date' scenario instead! Biting her nails in growing anxiety, Rose sat on her mum's bed and waited for the woman to get home, hoping they could talk before things got out of hand and became irrevocable.

By two o'clock that next morning, it was clear her mother was out for the night and wouldn't be coming home. That meant she was either spending the night in lock-up in a Ministry cell (highly unlikely) or she was sleeping in someone else's bed for the night (more than likely).

Her mum was probably shagging Draco Malfoy right then, wasn't she?

The idea made her positively ill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazons - Nation of all-female warriors in Greek mythology.
> 
> Penthesilea - Queen of the Amazons. She fought on the side of the Trojans against the Greeks in the Trojan War. She was killed in the first day of fighting after Hector's mourning period ended, Achilles was called over by Ajax to aid him. Mistaking Penthesilea as a man (as she was dressed in men's armour), Achilles gave her a mortal blow and then mocked her as she lay dying. When he removed her helmet and realised she was female, he wept (some say for instant love of her, others because he had a personal rule not to harm women). According to Diodorus Siculus, Penthesileia was the last Amazon to win distinction for bravery, and after she was gone, "(the Amazon race) diminished more and more and then lost all its strength." I have shamelessly borrowed from this tale to connect Penthesilea and the Amazons up to the Veela for a purpose to be revealed in future chapters.
> 
> Elohim - Hebrew for 'Heavenly Host' (i.e. angels)


	5. ASIDE: 1st Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione Granger-Weasley and Draco Malfoy have a lot of catching up to do...

_**CHAPTER 4 ASIDE: Hermione & Draco's Second Chance** _

_**Sunday, June 29th, 2031 (evening)** _

Hermione played with the clasp on her bracelet again, twirling it about nervously. "He still hasn't come home, then?" she asked.

Draco shook his platinum-blond head and ran a hand through his rakishly long bangs in frustration. "No. I haven't seen or heard from him since yesterday's fiasco." He sheepishly peeked at her through golden lashes. "Again, I can only apologize for my son's poor behavior, Hermione. I'm afraid he's inherited my sullen temper. I was much like him at that age. The Veela inside can be rather… irritable, at times."

Understandable, since Draco had been forced into a marriage-mating with Astoria Greengrass at that time.

"I admit to not knowing much at all about male Veela," she hedged. "There isn't a lot written from their perspective. Most of what's known has been collated over the centuries by the female of the species. Could you, perhaps,  _enlighten_  me?"

It was blatant sexual innuendo, and she knew by her date's reaction–the light flaring of his nostrils, his expanding pupils–that he had understood her message loud and clear. Slytherins, in general, excelled at reading between the lines.

Still, there were proprieties to be kept for a couple their age; he wasn't just going to toss her down on the table like some rutting twenty-year-old and have at right this moment, no matter how receptive she might be to such an idea. If he was truly interested, as he seemed to be, he'd feel her out through intense discussion, and she him. They'd conversationally dance for a while, and if they managed not to step on one another's toes too badly, there might even be an opportunity for a sweaty Tango later tonight between his bed sheets.

At least, she hoped so. She'd waited for this moment for a long time…

"What would you like to know, specifically?" he asked, extending his hand and taking the lead.

Hermione considered how far she could take the topic. On the one hand, she could keep this discourse along a very objective, scientific route, inquiring facts merely for the sake of knowledge. Or, she could do as her heart was begging her to do and guide this line of questioning towards a more personal course, hoping that she'd get answers as to what went wrong–if anything at all did, that was to say–between her and Draco so long ago. Perhaps, at the same time, she could also determine if there was a chance for a future between them. There was so much negative history connecting them, though, that she was afraid whether asking about those times might offend or anger him, or that the replies would anger and offend her.

It was true that they'd always been rather antagonistic from the get-go; two such diametrically opposed upbringings were bound to clash head-on, after all. But everything had changed for them both during the spring of sixth year, right after the whole _Sectumsempra_  incident…

As a result of Harry's over-enthusiasm in casting such a deadly spell, Madam Pomfrey had decided to keep Draco in the Hospital Wing for three days so he could have time to properly recuperate and to allow the Blood Replenishing Potions to do their job. Hermione had waited until the second night to go to speak with him about what had happened, and to apologize for Harry's rash actions out of a sense of misplaced guilt. She'd snuck in after-hours to find him very much awake, staring out the window, and had proceeded to take the chair at his side so they could talk properly.

At first, they'd argued in low voices, as he'd rejected her desire to mend the breach, saying Harry's punishment by the Ministry for using such a vicious curse would be well-deserved. Then, in the heat of the moment, she'd shifted from the chair to his cot, attempting to get him to see reason. As her hand had accidentally brushed against his, a powerful, undeniable, and seductive magic poured between them. The next thing she'd known, she was in his arms.

They'd spent hours after that passionately, tremulously kissing and slowly exploring each other, confessing to forbidden feelings that both of them had secretly harboured, but could never have said aloud prior. They'd stayed up all night touching and tasting every inch of skin on the other. Then, sometime around the witching hour, when the moon outside the window had peeked between the clouds to illuminate the ward in soft, silvery light, he'd gently taken her offered virginity.

Thankfully, Hermione had earlier cast a strong Silencing Charm to save them from alerting Filch or Madam Pomfrey as to her being in the ward. That forethought had been all that had saved them from being caught, as each time they'd made love that night their cries had been loud, lusty, and wholly unrestrained, and the old, creaky metal frame of the cot had moved violently under their recklessly thrusting bodies, screeching in protest.

Her first time had been a trembling, frightening, and delicious encounter for both of them – one she'd never forgotten.

In the aftermath of the experience, of course she'd worried about pregnancy. No Contraceptive Charm had been cast that night, so lost in the moment had they been. To her luck, however, despite their irresponsibility, no conception had occurred. They had, to date, never spoken of that stolen moment, either, for it brought up both beautiful and sad memories, for only weeks later Dumbledore had been murdered, and Draco had disappeared with Snape.

After that, Hermione had vowed to put from her mind what had happened with Draco Malfoy, locking the incident away in her heart. She figured he'd thrown his lot in with the Death Eaters, and she'd had a Dark Lord to help defeat. Somewhere along that path, she'd entangled herself with Ron to forget.

In the end, marrying Ron had helped the wizarding community to rebuild; it had given them all hope to see such obvious happiness found by Harry Potter and his two best friends in the post-Voldemort world.

Over the intervening years, she had given Ron two beautiful children, and she had raised them the best she could, while simultaneously pursuing a career at the Ministry. Her life had been comfortable, but not completely satisfying in the secret realms of her heart, for throughout all the years, she had never been able to forget the first man to make love to her. Her feelings for the dark wizard haunted her, no matter the distance or the experiences she'd shared with others, no matter Draco's own marriage and parenting success.

The sad truth of the matter was, she had loved her husband, yes, but she had never been in love with him. She and Ron had worked as a couple only because she'd overlooked many of their obvious incompatibilities in favour of taking the responsible, upstanding,  _expected_  path. She now believed that decision had cost her a life of potential passion with Draco.

Then again, Astoria Greengrass had been better suited to her former lover's distinct set of personality traits in the years following the war. During those times, from what little she'd seen written about him in the papers, he'd been angry, obsessed with rebuilding his family's name and fortunes, and bitter about life in general. Hermione honestly had to admit that she would not have been able to be the perfect mate for him then, for she too was very angry – specifically, at the losses she'd had to accept in Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, and all of the others who had died fighting in the war, and at the loss of her childhood and her educational opportunities because of Voldemort's insanity intruding upon her life. She'd also harboured a bit of resentment at herself for accepting Ron's suit when her heart had known better.

When Astoria had died, Hermione had hesitantly returned to Draco's life very briefly to express her deepest sympathies.

She hadn't known about his Veela heritage until that visit, and hadn't been prepared for his reaction to the loss of his mate. It had been devastating to witness the depth of his berserker rage, which had been ongoing for five whole days at that point. His father, Lucius, fearing him permanently insane to grief and lost, had been considering administering a poison dart to put Draco down, as Veela males were immune to magic when in their fully transformed state.

After convincing the elder Malfoys that she might be able to help, Hermione had spent four hours alone with her former lover in a strongly  _Silenced_  and locked room. In the end, she'd persevered in reaching through to the man inside, in soothing her wizard when all others had repeatedly failed to do so.

What none but she and Draco would ever know was that she'd only been able to accomplish such an impossible feat by allowing him in his fully feral Veela state to slake his lust and empty his pain inside her body while he'd finally released his tears. It had been a brutal series of couplings, as he'd pinned her to the carpet, face down, and repeatedly taken her on her hands and knees again and again. His broken, torn wings had splattered and dripped dark cherry-coloured blood all over everything as he'd screamed and sobbed his agony towards the heavens, thrusting heavily into her without respite. He'd torn her clothing, pulled her hair, bruised her hips… and they'd both cried the whole time.

Hermione had been absolutely terrified throughout it all, but more than that, she'd hurt in her heart so deeply for Draco that she'd felt her own heart breaking in half at the depth of his pain. The compassion and sympathy moved her so greatly that she'd done something that day that she'd sworn she'd never do again after the death of her own father, just two years prior: she'd prayed. She'd desperately pleaded with God to help her save Draco from his suicidal, rampaging mourning.

As the last words of her prayer had left her lips, Draco had finally exhausted himself. Like a switch turned off, he'd simply collapsed into a deep sleep at her side.

After cleaning up in the attached bathroom in his bedroom suite, repairing her wounds with Healing Charms and her clothes with Mending Charms, Hermione had gathered her courage about her like a cloak of protection and stepped back into the ramshackle bedroom to finish what she'd meant to do from the start. She'd proceeded to heal an unconscious Draco the best she could, repairing his shattered wings, his skull where he'd torn his hair from his head, and his savagely rent and gouged flesh from his self-inflicted mutilations. She'd magically repaired the crushed and broken furniture, sealed the holes in the wall, scoured the room until every inch was once more unsoiled, and had levitated her lover into his bed, tucking him under the sheets and giving him a kiss goodbye. Leaving the rest to Narcissa and Lucius, she'd excused herself from Malfoy Manor and gone home, where she'd retired to her bedroom and wept as quietly as possible into her pillow until her own mental fatigue had overtaken her and she'd finally fallen asleep.

Hermione never touched her husband or any other man sexually after that day – not ever again, finally believing with her whole heart what she'd suspected for years: that she would have been Draco Malfoy's Veela mate had she not married Ronald Weasley.

It hadn't taken long after that for Ron to know their marriage had ended. She'd spent years trying to silently apologise to him for not being able to be his true love, though, and when he'd taken up with Susan Bones two years later, she hadn't resented him having a mistress. They'd stayed together merely for the sake of the children; their friendship, however, improved as a result of neither one of them needing to keep up the pretense any further. When Rose had reached legal age, and Hugo had begun shedding childhood, becoming a man, Hermione and Ron had agreed upon an amicable divorce settlement and she'd moved into her own cottage.

Draco had never contacted her after everything that had happened between them, and she feared it was because he'd felt tremendous guilt for betraying the memory of his late wife just days after putting her in the ground. Some hurts, she knew, one never truly got over, and she wasn't sure how a Veela male's emotional make-up would cope with all he'd been through in so short a time. So, she'd let him be and had waited for him to approach her. She'd spent the time in between working and researching the subject on second mates (who really should maybe have been first mates, but for a cock-up caused by a mad Dark Lord and a wizarding war), but there never seemed to be any deeper information on the subject. Even her former sister-in-law, Fleur, didn't seem to know, as her case had been unprecedented.

By then, years had passed, and when Malfoy hadn't reappeared in her life, Hermione had finally decided that perhaps he'd concluded that they'd missed their second chance long ago, if indeed he had ever wanted that chance. So, she'd done her best to move on with her career aspirations and had tried not to let her feelings for Draco–which had never dulled with time–wound her so greatly.

When Hermione had received Draco's letter this last week, her heart had leapt into her throat. When she'd read the contents of his correspondence, she'd almost fainted. His son and her daughter: fated to be what she and Draco most likely should have been. It was both a beautiful and a tragic irony.

Now here she was, sitting across from him at his Manor House, sharing a glass of wine after having had a splendid meal, watching the distant summer sun set from the balcony of the house within which she'd suffered so much pain over the years – first in the throes of Bellatrix's  _Cruciatus_ , and then at Draco's own hands, during his mourning. She wondered if she should dare direct this conversation around to get the answers she wanted about them. Could she? Should she?

Well, she hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor for nothing…

"Specifically, I'm curious about Veela mating bonds," she answered. "Is it possible for the male to have multiple mates in his lifetime?"

Draco's shrewd grey eyes bronzed out as the sun's last rays glimmered in their depths. With a wave of his hand, he wandlessly called flame to the candles set on the table, keeping the looming darkness at bay. "Yes, it's quite possible, but only if the Veela's mate died and he survived her death. Such was the case with my grandfather, Abraxas, who took a second mate–Madeline, my biological grandmother–after his first mate died in a tragic fire with their unborn baby. He subsisted a dozen years after Madeline had passed as well, and probably would have eventually taken a third mate, except he was exposed to a rather virulent strain of Dragon Pox on a trip to Romania and succumbed to it just prior to my acceptance to Hogwarts."

A spark of hope sprang to life in Hermione's chest. "How does a Veela know his mate?" she pressed, wanting to fill in the wide gaps in her research that had existed for years. "The existing texts are entirely too vague on the subject, with not a useful detail to be found, as far as I can determine from my years of studying the species… for my job, of course."

Okay, that was a teensy lie, but she didn't want him to think she was some nut stalker who'd been obsessively investigating this part of his life. Which she kind-of, sort-of had been, but that was beside the point.

Her former lover spun his wine glass by its stem between his fingers, watching her through the ruby liquid. An eloquent smile jerked the edges of his lips upwards. "I can't speak as to the female Veela's ways for choosing a mate, as I honestly don't know what they endure for such a privilege," he explained with some small measure of amusement, "but there is a specific ritual that a male Veela must undergo upon his twenty-fifth birthday. It is the final stage of this transformative ritual, specifically, which allows him to discover the identity of his chosen mate. After that, he may again go through the ritual at his own instigation once every twenty-five years – but, as I explained earlier, only if he's lost his mate in the interim." He looked at her pointedly through long, dark golden lashes. " _If_  he chooses to go through the ritual again to find a new mate, he has exactly three years–three to represent the three stages of the Transformation–after his fiftieth birthday, or his seventy-fifth, or one hundredth, et cetera to do so. If he doesn't take advantage of the opportunity within that time, he loses the chance until the next quarter century birthday."

Hermione's heart did a double-flip in happiness. Perhaps it wasn't too late for them then! Draco's fiftieth birthday had only been last year. He still had time to decide on whether to look for a new mate or not.

"Can you tell me more about this ritual?" she asked. "How does it allow you to know your mate?"

Draco chuckled. "You realize that this is clandestine knowledge, Granger? As the only continuous male Veela lineage in the world, we Malfoys enjoy our privacy – and especially on this particular subject. Surely, you can understand why."

She nodded sincerely, hoping she hadn't tramped too far across his comfort levels.

"I can tell you exactly what you want to know," he offered with a teasing grin, "but in the name of secrecy, I'll want to extract a promise from you not to tell anyone else, except Rose, if she asks. No writing a book on the subject or presenting it at a conference for a topic of discussion."

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow.

Well, that was a disappointment. She'd loved to have written a paper on the subject of male Veela, as little was known about them in academia. In this case, however, Draco had specifically asked her for the favour of confidentiality, so she would respect his request. With a nod, she agreed to his terms with a tiny caveat added. "You have my word that I won't repeat what you tell me here tonight, except to Rose  _and_  her children, if it becomes necessary for them to know at any time."

Draco lost his playful smile then, and looked upon her with cool, measuring eyes. Whatever criteria he had been seeking to confirm his trust he obviously found in those long, assessing seconds, for he seemed to come to the determination that he could rely upon her confidence with a single, curt nod.

"Being a Veela is much like being a Werewolf or a Vampire," he began. "There are two halves to the person – the human side and the Veela side. Unlike a Vampire or Lycan though, a Veela is born, not made. However, all three magical beings are, for lack of better understanding, what humans would deem 'monsters.' In the case of the Vampire, the monster needs a blood donor-companion to calm its ferocious temper. In the case of the Werewolf, it needs the social order of the pack for the same reason. As for the Veela, we need our mate in order to mitigate our volatile temper."

He ran a nervous hand through his long front bangs as he spoke, pushing them off his face – a familiar gesture, as he had done it the night they'd first made love to each other, during their argument beforehand. The memory brought up tactile awareness in Hermione's body, making her stomach flutter.

"As a class of 'monsters,' all three races have transformative aspects to our alternative, non-human sides," Draco continued. He put his glass on the table and rubbed the palms of his hands over his thighs, as if trying to wipe away his discomfort in revealing this particular skeleton in the family's cupboard. "Vampire's teeth become razor-sharp, like those of piranhas, their eyes become fully black as midnight, and they turn pale when they change. Werewolves shift into their Lycan form – a perfect amalgamation of wolf and human. Veela sprout wings, their eyes glow. While the females grow beaks and talons, the males wrap themselves in inky shadows, their hair grows longer to give them a more feral appearance, and their canines elongate. In all three species, strength, speed and stamina increase during transformation.

"Also, in all three cases, their bite is venomous – to differing degrees, but with the single goal of creating offspring. A Vampire's bite numbs the area and injects an aphrodisiac into the quarry's system so feeding is less painful and more pleasurable, thus making the one donating blood more willing to drink from the Vampire, if offered. As Vampires are inherently sterile, choosing to share their blood with their prey is the only way the Vampire can make Kin. They create their children and mates this way, using their bite to sway their intended.

"A Werewolf's bite transmits the Lycan virus to those who wish to be made into pack. As most Werewolf pregnancies end in still-births, this is their evolved method for keeping their species going. Unfortunately, as seen with beasts like Greyback, infecting someone with Lycanthropy can also be used as a weapon and for punishment, too.

"I can't speak as to the female Veela's bite, but as for the male Veela's, it is only meant for their mate, and it magically binds them to the Veela, altering their biology, chemistry, and magical aura to prepare them for conception. It also makes them crave their mate's touch to ensure a reproductive bond subsists between them."

Hermione was simply floored by this information. Despite all her years of research into magical beings and creatures for her work, she'd never once conceived that Vampires, Werewolves, and Veela might be classified under the same familial umbrella (much as Hags, Giants, and Humans were generally lumped together, and House-elves, Fairies, Pixies, and Goblins were grouped) – much less that they'd have similar reproductive strategies that played to their 'monster' attributes! This was information that could transform the entire study of magical beings and create whole new avenues of biological study for the wizarding world.

The scientist within her now regretted agreeing to Draco's request.

Draco laughed. "I can feel those gears in your head turning, Granger, trying to find a way around your earlier promise."

She sighed in defeat, knowing that if she betrayed Draco's trust, everything between them would be ruined. She'd waited too long for their possibility for a second chance to toss it away now by being indiscreet. Besides, she'd given her word and there were no do-overs when it came to that kind of a vow in her book. "I won't go back on my promise to you, Draco. I just wish you'd consider someday publishing this information. Do you realise the impact it could have on the study of magical beings?"

He sat back in his chair, crossing his legs, and picked up his wine glass again. He leisurely swirled the contents around and around before taking a sip. "Oh, I understand perfectly well the impact, and I'd like to keep the Veela as far away from the reputation of Vampires and Werewolves as possible. Right now, my kind are tolerated because they're seen as glamourous and mostly harmless, aside from a little temper tantrum now and again. Our breeding with humans is generally overlooked, as the children tend to be more human than monster. If Veela were to be linked to dark beings like Vamps and Lycans, though, it would cause a culture of fear to pop up. No matter how liberal our current Ministry is there are always conservative voices out there preaching segregation of the races and species. If you don't mind, I'd rather not be put on trial and imprisoned in internment camps, as Voldemort had proposed for his New World Order. I've heard enough of that kind of lunacy to last a lifetime."

He was right, of course. Hermione was a discerning enough student of history to know that humans–both Muggle and wizard alike–always feared the things deemed 'different' and reacted violently towards it at first pass.

"You're a very wise man, Draco Malfoy."

Over the rim of his wine glass, he tossed her a heated smile. "Only about certain things. For the rest, I've got you to keep me straight."

Hermione's heart leapt into her throat. Godric, what did he mean by that? Was he hinting that now that they'd reconnected, he intended on keeping her close by his side?

 _Don't jump to conclusions, Hermione_ , she scolded herself _. He may have just been talking in generalities. Like, he could always Owl me notes when he had questions about things that required research or… that sort of thing._

"S-so, of the three species, Veela are the only ones who tend to successfully breed the old-fashioned way, you were saying?" she asked, prodding the conversation back on track.

"Yes," Draco confirmed for her, "and as a result, our bestial side is always within us, from the moment of conception until our death. It remains fully dormant until puberty, however. The changes we experience going from child to young adult causes the Veela to gain consciousness. At that point, the Veela is not a separate personality,  _per se_. We still can't talk to it. It's like the chrysalis stage of a butterfly; the two forms co-exist within the same body while the caterpillar is in its torpid state in the cocoon. They are the same being, transforming together slowly over time. Again, I can't speak for females, but for males, that's what the Veela is and how it learns of the world between puberty and the man's twenty-fifth birthday."

"What's the purpose of it waking up that early?" Hermione asked, trying to puzzle together nature's reasoning for that adaptation.

Draco twirled his glass again, seemingly engrossed in counting the wine's tears on the glass. "It gives the Veela time to take notice of the world, using its host's eyes, ears, and other senses, to prepare itself for what's to come with its full awakening later. You see, it's during this time that a male Veela starts to evaluate potential mates, using its human host's perceptive abilities to determine the strengths and weaknesses of all non-related females whose path it crosses. It weighs the witch's aptitudes and appropriateness in a variety of categories, mostly having to do with reproductive compatibility."

"You didn't feel your Veela at that age, did you?"

Draco pursed his lips together, seeming to weigh his answer. "Not… until the night you came to me in the Hospital Ward. We both felt its power then."

So, it was true. Draco's Veela had come out to play a bit on that night. But how had that been possible?

"I'll explain in a bit how that was possible," he promised her. "Just let me get through this first, or you'll be nagging me to death later to fill in the blanks for you, and I don't want any interruptions then."

Hermione stopped breathing, going completely still.

Could he possibly mean-?

No, she wouldn't assume anything where Draco was concerned, as she'd been wrong about him twice before. He hadn't been willing to come knocking on her door either time in the past, for whatever reason – not after their first time together, and not in the years she'd waited for him after the loss of his wife. Yes, she was here now at his invitation, but that could just be so he could relay information to her so she could prepare Rose for her life with Scorpius. Or, maybe he was trying to seduce her for one last go 'round before he decided to look for another mate. Maybe he thought to take her out for a test drive to see if they were still compatible for future mate status. Whatever the reason, she wouldn't let her heart, but her head lead this time.

"Okay," she readily agreed.

He frowned, staring into his glass, mentally chasing where the conversation had left off. As he reconnected with the right thread, he set his wine glass back on the table. "As I was saying earlier, there's a specific ritual male Veela go through on the day celebrating their first quarter century. At that point, the Veela has completed its 'pupa' stage, and is ready to emerge and claim a mate so it can get on with the business of reproduction. This is called the Transition.

"There are three stages of the Transition: the Manifestation, the Emergence, and finally, the Presentation.

"For male Veela, stage one begins at the exact minute of our birth, in our twenty-fifth year of life. Our Veela fully comes to consciousness. Our magical aura and that of the Veela shift to align us into sync with each other. You see, two souls are taking up the same space in one body, and in a magical being, this can lead to their mutual destruction unless they align their magicks. The Manifestation makes the wizard and the Veela even. It is quite a painful process, as the abilities of both merge. Some magical talents are lost, while others are bolstered, and some are even newly opened up to both – repressed talents come to light. It can take an hour or more for this process, but once the shift has completed, the wizard and the Veela are as one, and stage two begins.

"The Emergence is the most painful of the three steps. The physically shared body undergoes a metamorphosis of its own. Muscle mass is added, bones are made stronger, the heart and lungs able to pump more efficiently, and all five senses heighten. This is to help the Veela protect his mate throughout the course of their lives together. Our immune system strengthens as well, and our lifespan extends greatly, allowing us an extra seventy-five to one hundred years of life over the typical human lifespan – to ensure maximum breeding potential. In addition, males gain control of our scent glands so we can mark our mate to keep any challengers to our suit away. For the females, it's different. They also seem to activate their pheromones, but from what I can tell, it's to attract as many mates as possible. I'm not sure why that is, honestly."

A smooth shrug of those broad shoulders of his brought Hermione's attention to the subtle changes in his body that she'd seen, but hadn't really paid attention to until just that moment. Draco did seem a bit more muscular than a wizard who had spent most of his time indoors rather than sporting outdoors or at the gym.

She recalled that afternoon years ago, when she'd gone to calm his Veela; his body  _had_  been rippling with powerful muscle. At the time, she'd thought it part of his transformation and assumed he would revert to something less bulky once he'd calmed and changed back. To her disappointment, she hadn't seen him naked again to conduct a mental comparison.

Yet.

Her cheeks burned at such a bold thought.

Across the table, Draco cleared his throat, and reached for his glass again, taking another sip of his wine. Over the rim, his eyes danced with understanding and amusement.

Godric, she really should learn to hide her expressions better, especially around a former Slytherin!

Her date licked his lips in a provocative manner and chuckled as her entire body burned as red hot as a phoenix's in response. "Too easy, Granger."

"Up yours, prat," she mumbled, sipping from her own glass of Bordeaux. Her cheeks were on fire and she was decidedly damp between her thighs. She waved a negligent hand at him. "Carry on before I decide to tump you over the edge of this balcony for baiting me so spectacularly."

Draco's laugh was a real and joyful thing. "Oh, how I've missed you, you vicious swot."

Hermione could have melted into her chair right then.

He'd  _missed_  her!

"As I was saying," he continued, reaching for the wine bottle and refilling first hers, then his own glass, "it takes hours for the second stage to occur, and it's usually quite painful. When it's complete, the final stage occurs. During the Presentation, the newly awakened Veela opens its Third Eye and through it, he and the wizard together see the face of their mate as chosen by the magic of the cosmos. At this point, the man's mystical 'red thread of fate' and that of his mate's are entwined and they become magically bonded through this life, and the next."

"Third Eye… as in, the Inner Eye, which is key to Divination?" Hermione asked, somewhat skeptical.

Draco nodded. "I know you always thought Trelawney barking mad, but Hermione, I have to tell you that having experienced a mating once already, there's really something to all that mumbo-jumbo."

Grudgingly, she agreed. "A part of me can accept that. I mean, we all bought into the prophecy that guided Harry to defeat Voldemort. It's just… I have difficulty accepting Divination as an accurate prediction method. It certainly can't compare with Arithmancy." She played with the stem of her wine glass. "I admit I don't understand the 'red thread of fate' reference. Is it some sort of matchmaking spell?"

Draco became suddenly very animated. Clearly, he was excited to be discussing the subject of theoretical magicks. "In a manner of speaking. According to East Asian philosophy, Fate or some such similar deity creates a red string for every person at birth. The string is connected to your ankle on one end, and on the other, it is connected to the person who is destined to be your soul-mate. Not time, space, or even circumstances that create tangles in the thread can ever break that connection, so that eventually, they will find each other and become lovers."

She tilted her head and uncrossed her legs, turning her foot to peer at her ankle. "It's a nice thought, but… I see nothing."

"You wouldn't, since you're not looking through your Third Eye right now," Draco flippantly pointed out. "But trust me, it's there."

Abruptly, she peered over at him. How would he know such a thing? Unless…

"Tell me something, Draco: is it possible for this mystical mating magic you speak of to ever make a mistake in the choosing of a mate during the final stage of the ritual?"

Draco leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his lap, tenting his thumbs together. "No, it never makes a mistake. However, it's possible for the mating magic to be forced to reject a mate as a viable option. That could happen is if the woman died in the intervening years before the ritual, or if she'd already received the three marks from another Veela, or if she were somehow unfit for breeding – if her womb had been damaged or removed for instance, or if she'd been infected with Lycanthropy or turned into a Vampire, or if she were pregnant with someone else's child at the time of the ritual. The magic would seek an alternative mate in such cases."

Hermione lowered her eyes to her lap, trying to hide her sadness. She would have been pregnant with Rose at the time of Draco's twenty-fifth birthday. Was that why his magic hadn't picked her and instead chosen Astoria Greengrass?

She steadied herself to ask the one question that would either make them as a couple, or break her in half: "Do you believe it's possible for a woman who might have been unavailable for mating the first time to get a second chance to become a Veela mate, should future circumstances allow for such an opportunity?"

There drifted between them a few moments of silence – enough time for Hermione to notice that the sustained trilling coming from the tree line on the vast property belonged to a lone male Song Thrush.  _How ironic,_  she thought. Popular legend stated that if a mated female Song Thrush was killed during the year, her male mate would sing about her beauty and spirit every evening in tribute. Then, the next spring, he would finally let her go to seek out a new mate.

Was it a sign from Draco's mysterious cosmic influence?

She peeked up between her lashes at her former lover, wondering what he was thinking about her bold question. Draco's expression was, to her astonishment, completely open and readable. His lips were turned up in a small, wistful smile that tugged at her heart.

"I don't think the Veela–nor the man–could ever forget their first true love," he admitted in a gentle, soft voice. "I think they would crave that one witch throughout all the years and circumstances that separated them, mated to another or not. And I think, that if such an opportunity arose where the man and his Veela could have a second chance with her, they would both do whatever was necessary, no matter how painful, to see it through. Even if it took years of waiting until the next ritual date, of purposefully separating himself from the outside world and becoming a shut-in to avoid the possibility of the magic having a larger pool of witches to choose from, and of channeling every ounce of energy he had into sustaining his Veela's life when all it wanted to do was die, the man would do it. He would become a recluse, only half alive, a topic of pitying gossip and scandalous speculation. He would do anything to have her."

Hermione's vision wavered, and she blinked as a tear fought its way to freedom, streaking down her cheek. He was talking about her, wasn't he?  _Please_  let him be talking about her!

He stood and made his way to her side, reaching out very slowly with one hand and gently stroking through her hair. She did not shy from the touch, instead turning into his warmth, covetous of it.

"I think the man and his Veela also wouldn't be able to approach his witch in the interim, because there would still exist the possibility that the magic would not choose her for some inexplicable reason. As you'd expect, the man would be terrified of that possibility, and of hurting his love so egregiously, so he would wait… and pray she understood… and hope with all he was that he could have her someday for his own."

Oh, Merlin, he'd kept her at a distance all these years after Astoria's death to protect her heart in case the second mating ritual denied her again!

"I see," she murmured, trembling all over. "I didn't know… any of that."

"You couldn't have," Draco quietly defended her. "Everything I've told you is a very tightly held secret that only a Veela male may only share with his mate."

Hermione's whole world went suddenly very still. Her heart beat slowed, and her mind went quiet for the first time in her life.

"I performed the mating ritual last night, when I got home," he explained quickly, his voice catching on the last word. "Perhaps it was presumptuous of me, but I needed to know if what I've been feeling for you since I was sixteen was real or not, Hermione. I needed to know if you would have been mine if things had been different back then, and if there was the possibility of a future for us now – our second chance, as you deem it. My answer… It's why I've taken every potion known to man to be up and walking right now, when I should be flat on my back recovering. Why I'd Owl'd you today and invited you here for dinner." His hand swept across her jaw, cupping it, and he rubbed his thumb very lightly over her lips, letting out a shaky breath at the same time. "I knew it was your face I'd see. No matter what the world expected or demanded of me, you've always been at the other end of my red string, Granger, waiting for me to wake up and  _see_  you." He titled her chin up with two fingers and forced her to look at him. "You were meant to be my mate from the very beginning."

A sob escaped her lips and tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook with the weight of her relief and her hands trembled from all of the pent-up tension she'd held onto so tightly for so many years.

"I knew it," she whispered. "Oh, Draco, I  _knew._ "

Her lover took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "My beautiful mate," he murmured as he bent his head and claimed her lips in a possessive, powerful kiss that seared her soul and sealed her fate.

Hermione fell into his embrace, into the love Draco offered her – the love she'd waited over thirty-four years to reaffirm.

There was no waiting, no chancing any possible challengers or strange occurrences to interfere this time; immediately Draco gave her the First Mark – biting both of their bottom lips with sharpened canines, and bringing them together to mingle their blood. The maelstrom released by that magical kiss drowned Hermione in waves of ecstasy that boiled her blood and threw her into a sea of overwhelming desire.

" _MINE_ ," he growled against her mouth, staking his irrefutable claim. He rubbed his cheeks against both of hers in a scent marking that perfumed the air around them and infused her skin with an earthly, rich fragrance that reminded her of a balmy spring night, like the one they'd spent together in the Hospital Wing – the scent of clean, sun-kissed sheets, Granny Smith apples, and the sandalwood-amber musk of his cologne.

Hermione absently nodded, seeking out more of his tantalizing, luscious kiss. "Yes, all yours, Draco. Only yours."

With the strength graced him by his Veela heritage, her lover lifted her in his arms and swiftly carried her inside. The balcony where they'd supped was on the floor above the Manor's Foyer near the rear of the house, overlooking the back gardens. To reach his bedroom on the floor above, Draco took her down a long hallway, around a corner, and up a flight of marble stairs. He moved so fast, everything blurred around them.

Hanging on for the ride, Hermione wrapped her arms around her lover's neck, pressed her nose into the hollow of his throat, and smiled with real joy for the first time in a long time. "Thank you, God," she whispered over and over into the collar of his soft, silken dress shirt.

With wandless magic, they passed through a set of wide, white double-doors trimmed with gold accents. It led them into her wizard's bedroom. They hurried through, and with a bang, the doors slammed shut behind them.

In a trice, Draco had her pressed down into the soft mattress of his bed, laid across a cool satiny coverlet. "Look at us, sweet mate," he bade, his voice that same odd union of Draco's cultured speech with the deeper baritone of his Veela.

Hermione's met his glowing silver eyes and felt her sexual hunger for him increase ten-fold. He'd changed in the seconds it had taken them to cross the room to his bed. His handsome features were tinged with shadow, and his champagne-coloured hair was suddenly much longer, creating a curtain of privacy around them. Godric, he was beautiful!

"You have always been ours, Hermione. We claimed you first," he arrogantly stated, then growled in anger. "But you let that Weasel touch what was ours! You kept yourself from us!"

Hermione felt a regretful, little catch in her heart. "I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't know you were a Veela then, and I thought, after everything with the war… We were so different after the fighting was done, and I was so angry with you for being on the wrong side, and… honestly, a part of me thought you'd decided that what we'd done had been a mistake, since you didn't try to come speak to me."

Draco stared at her through narrowed eyes that were both jealous and hurt at the same time. "We will make it up to you," he finally resolved. Dipping his head, his nose pressed into her throat, and he took a long, deep scenting of her skin. His sigh was both one of relief and regret. "We have waited for you for a long time."

"I never forgot you – I couldn't. I loved you," she murmured against his damp brow, nuzzling into his hairline, feeling his touch elicit the mating imperative. With knickers soaking wet from her arousal, she rubbed her pelvis against the front of his trousers with a raw, indecent need. "Now, bite me, Draco," she whispered the plea in his ear. "Fuck me. Mate me forever."

He growled in lusty approval at her depraved language, and the sound was a cross between a big cat snarling and a raptor crying out. He opened his mouth and struck fast, sinking his canines deep into her throat and giving her the Second Mark. His venom–the serum that would change her as he'd explained–was icy cold as it hit her hot, thrumming bloodstream. The sensation was terribly painful, acutely shocking, and almost paralyzing. In the centre of her body, however, she felt something deep down in her womb grow uncannily warm, as if she'd laid a heating pad over the area in relief of cramps. It pulsed in a steady, comforting manner that she could feel all through her feminine core. Her clit throbbed in response, and another small gush of wetness was released, drenching her panties.

"Oh, God," she moaned, as the pain morphed into pure bliss. Every heartbeat reverberated through her, all of her senses heightened. She was sweating and trembling with need from head to toe. "Draco, please!"

She pulled his hair to direct him to get on with it, but he was unmovable, his jaw locked tight onto her throat, concentrating on assuring the Second Mark took. He hummed in approval against her skin as his mating venom poured into her, changing her, preparing her for accepting him and their bond.

As the icy burn at her throat began to lessen, Draco began divesting them both of their clothing, keeping his mouth still as he did so. He shoved her dress up around her waist, gripped her thong knickers, and literally shredded them with a powerful yank. Reaching up to the vee of her neckline, he tore her dress down the middle, using strength she hadn't fathomed possible. He made quick work of her bra as well, and pulled the fabrics out from under and around her, tossing them to either side heedlessly, all the while latched onto her and refusing to let go even for something as necessary as undressing. When her clothes were divested, Hermione felt and heard Draco tearing his own clothes from his body with the same brutal efficiency. All the while, he pumped the chemical cocktail-combination-aphrodisiac into her system that continued to work its enchantment upon her.

Clit and nipples aching for attention, she rubbed them against his bare skin. His flesh was hot and slippery with perspiration, but it was as solid as she remembered it to be. Grabbing hold of his broad shoulders, she tilted her hips upwards and slid her wet pussy against his taut length. "Yes," she sighed as she slicked his stiff member with her juices, imprinting something of herself upon him back. "Come inside me. Please, I need to feel you!"

Slipping his arms under her knees, he spread her wider and rubbed his cock through her naked folds. As she opened her eyelids and watched, soft, black feathered wings spread free from his back, stretching out far enough to encompass the width of the bed. They were absolutely beautiful in their contrast to his pale, starlit-coloured hair.

Lifting his fangs from her throat, Draco gave a series of small licks to the puncture wounds to seal them. His tongue erotically teased her skin into healing. Then, "Who do you belong to?" he asked in a demand, his powerful voice reverberating off the walls and ceiling. His eyes positively glowed in the darkness of the cool, silent bedroom.

Hermione reached to pull his mouth down to hers, but he gently rebuffed her attempt, intentionally withholding himself until she answered his question. Something deep inside her–some sixth sense or magical enlightenment–understood that this was part of the mating ritual, and it knew precisely how to reply: "I am  _your_  mate, Draco Malfoy. I belong to you – the man and the Veela. And you both belong to me. We belong together."

"That's right, Hermione. You belong with us," he hissed with pleasure. "With us!"

At the end of that proclamation, he sheathed his iron-hard length deep inside her inflamed body, sinking between the layers of her drenched flesh, working his way inside her tight channel until he was buried to the hilt. "God, yes!" Hermione shouted in exquisite pleasure-pain. He was so thick and long that he filled her up, stretched her wide, and made her nearly faint from the blissful sensation.

"You're our mate," her lover chanted with reverence, working his hips in a strong, steady pistoning action from the get-go. His tight balls slapped against her with each powerful thrust. "Ours at last."

All Hermione could do was hold on and  _feel_. Draco made love to her with such amazing skill, like her pleasure was his only goal in life. She clenched around him, urged him on with mewling cries and grasping hands, and throughout it all, he murmured his love for her. For hours, in a variety of positions, he guided them through the stormy seas of desire, delivering her time and again to the peak of true ecstasy. Like long-time dance partners, there was an intuitive and beautiful understanding between them – a natural, almost choreographed flow to their joining that was both astonishing and satisfying. Throughout it all, Draco maintained a low rumbling noise through his chest, almost like a deep purr that vibrated into Hermione's very core, intensifying the desire that burned like wildfire through her veins. Each time he orgasmed he reasserted their bond by thrusting his split bottom lip into her mouth and making her suckle upon it, fusing their bodies and souls with magic and blood and seed.

By dawn, Hermione was exhausted, sticky, and sore, yet Draco's Veela was far from done with her. Apparently, it had three decades worth of pent-up lust for her to slake. Limp, almost faint from fatigue, body aching from head to toe, Hermione panted against her lover's shoulder. He was on his knees, holding her suspended in the air, her legs wrapped about his waist, as he plunged into her with seemingly unquenchable desire.

"Draco, please… you've exhausted me," she complained.

"Not yet," he panted. "Do you love us, Hermione? We've been waiting all night to hear those words from you."

"I did say," she replied, face pressed into the cradle of his shoulder and neck.

"No, you said you'd  _loved_ us." He bent his head and bit her throat, growling, obviously perturbed by the past tense. "But do you love us now?" he murmured, raising his mouth to the shell of her ear. "Can you forgive us for what we did to you, and love us again?"

He was speaking of the first time she'd met his Veela, during its traumatic loss of its first mate, and how it had used her body so violently. He was apologizing to her and seeking her forgiveness! Leaning back, she noted how the rays from the rising sun peeking through the tall, cathedral windows illuminated the lovely silver of his eyes. It highlighted his concern, his fear that she'd not be able to forgive him his brutality towards her, too. Not even the shadows surrounding his features could hide that fact.

"You said you'd waited all these years to be able to perform the ritual again, so we might have a second chance," she reminded him. "You believed in us – in the magical red thread that ties our fates together, and you had faith that someday, inevitably we'd circle back around to pick up where we'd left off. I might not have known about that myth before last night, but… I've always felt it." She stroked her fingers over his angled cheek to soothe his unsettled mind. "Don't you know I've been waiting and hoping for you all this time as well? I've never stopped loving you, Draco, not from the first kiss you gave me." She gave him her most hopeful smile, feeling its light and warmth in her heart as well. "I love you, I finally have all of you, and I'm never letting you go. That's all that matters."

To her surprise, tears of relief and joy dripped down her lover's cheeks. Tilting his head back, Draco and his Veela together gave a feline-raptor cry of triumph, loudly exclaiming to the very heavens their victory in winning their mate's unequivocal love.

"One more time," he growled, dipping his head and capturing her mouth again.

As her tongue tasted the sweet-copper of his blood upon his lips, the revival of her arousal was instantaneous; a gush of her feminine essence slicked them both and her breasts became heavy, the nipples aching to be caressed and sucked. Every muscle in Draco's body went tense in response, and he surged up into her with feral power as his sable wings beat rhythmically in time to his thrusting hips. Bucking against him in mindless need, driven by some instinctual desire for this final coupling, Hermione rose towards what she knew would be a shattering climax.

"We love you," he whispered against her lips as he molded her frame tightly to his, fitting their curves perfectly, aligning her body for maximum penetration. "There will  _never_  be another for us. Only you, Hermione. We belong to you. You are our soul-mate."

He kissed her and Hermione's climax peaked, shredding all her mental protective barriers and rendering her completely open to her lover. She threw her head back and screamed Draco's name, reaching for him with all her heart – and felt him reaching back. Their auras collided, entwined, melded in that moment, and with a last, forceful drive, Draco buried himself completely in her body, connecting them as if they were one being. He flooded her womb with his hot, life-giving seed and cried out her name. His raven-colored wings extended as far out as they could and then slowly bent forward and wrapped around them, sheltering them from the outside world. This special moment they would allow no possible outside observer to witness, for it was theirs alone.

It was in this moment of perfect rapture that Draco gave her the Third Mark: the gift of Veela conception.

"Love and protect our son," her mate bade her, stroking a reverent hand over her belly. His body continued to jerk as he emptied himself into her.

The realization of what they had done and of what the three Veela markings actually meant hit to her then with all the force of a runaway train: bonding a female to them in every way–magically, spiritually, and physically–was the only way a male Veela could successfully breed. Their evolved reproductive strategy was sexual serial monogamy, and they were sterile otherwise. That's why she'd never gotten pregnant after having slept with Draco either time in the past – the first time because he hadn't transformed yet himself, and without a melding with his Veela, he couldn't mate as one, and the second time because he hadn't properly transformed  _her_  to be his perfect mate. Neither one of them had been ready either time.

Now, though, he'd undergone the ritual transformation a second time - for her,  _and_  he'd properly mated her. Her body was now not only receptive to accepting his sperm, but it was actually facilitating their passage and assuring conception.

As she entwined her fingers with Draco's and helped him keep her hips tilted back and her core warm, she thought about what the marks had done to her. The extreme chemical changes brought on by the First Mark had assured her body had been properly receptive to breeding. It had heightened her arousal, and made her burn for Draco's sex, assuring she wouldn't deny him. The Second Mark had increased her basal body temperature and had sent her into instantaneous ovulation. It had also aligned their magical auras, so they would properly resonate, most likely to prevent any magical mishaps that might damage their changes at conception. The Third Mark had been the magical push for the finish line, so to speak. With their bodies, auras, and souls joined at the moment of climax, Draco's seed had become viable and extremely fertile. Their love, the strongest magic in the universe, had given it extra strength to make the journey. It would reach its destination soon, and it  _would_  fertilize her egg.

Not having gone through menopause yet it was pretty much guaranteed that she was going to be a mother again.

She had never been more astonished in her life.

"I will," she promised him, then gave a tired laugh. "You'd better hope the changes I'll go through now that you've bonded me to you and your Veela will slow down my aging even more than wizarding blood does, or our son is going to have an old hag for a mother by the time he hits Hogwarts."

Draco smirked, and it was both playful and more than a little arrogant. "Maybe we'll toss you over for someone younger once he's born."

She arched an eyebrow at that. "Have I told you, my oh-so-enchanting mate, that during my years at school, I invented a hex to cause erectile dysfunction, merely out of sheer boredom?"

His answering grin was wide and attractively boyish. "Have we told you that we intentionally selected the smartest witch of our age for our mate because her brains always made us hard for her?"

Hermione laughed. "Charmer," she accused.

Draco kissed her forehead and slowly, gently lay them horizontal on the bed. His wings were still wrapped around her, and she noted how angel soft they were against her cheek as he turned them on their side. His body was still intimately connected with hers, and he stared at her as if she were his everything.

"I do love you," she whispered to him. "So,  _so_  much, Draco."

His smile this time was sweet, almost even shy. "We love you, too, Hermione Granger."

She sighed. "The children are going to murder us, you realise."

He gave a negligent one-shoulder shrug. "Maybe they'll take their cue from us."

Hermione was doubtful. "Maybe." She covered a yawn behind her hand and then settled into his chest, resting her against his bare chest. "Good night, my mate. My husband."

That lovely trilling-purring noise lulled her slowly into sleep.

Before her dreams swept her away, a pleasant thought crossed her mind: in mating her properly, her lover had not just bound them up in this lifetime, but in perpetuity through the heritage of the child they had made tonight. Their union would continue the Malfoy Veela tradition, and their combined genetic code would persist through the generations as a result. Their children, their grandchildren and so on would always carry a little bit of her and Draco's love in their DNA.

Their love had created a new life… and around their son's tiny ankle would extend a new red thread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wine's tears = also referred to as a wine's 'legs'. These are the streaks a wine makes on the side of a glass when twirled. These used to be thought to indicate a wine's quality (the more legs, the higher the quality), but nowadays this is mostly discounted in wine judging contests, as other factors may affect how many legs appear (i.e. surface tension, alcohol content, etc.).
> 
> A huge thank you to UNSEENLIBRARIAN, who so kindly beta'd revision 1.0 of this chapter!


	6. Casualty of Division

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius battles with the Veela inside him, resisting its need to claim Rose with or without her consent.
> 
> The second dream-walk draws Scorpius into a bizarre and darker part of Rose's mind, giving him a glimpse into her secret, subconscious thoughts.
> 
> Saving Rose from her nightmare world, Scorpius and his mate spend some quality time together...

**_CHAPTER 5: CASUALTY OF DIVISION_ **

**_Tuesday, July 1st, 2031 (night)_ **

Scorpius gave Rose two nights alone after their encounter, wanting her to come to terms with their situation. The entire time, he'd suffered for it, however.

The Veela within, only just beginning to regain its strength after using up much of its vital energy to appear to Rose in the dream, had constantly demanded Scorpius go claim their mate, and the beast clearly wasn't happy accepting Eleri's body as a substitute for their lustful nature. Its verbal abuse had only gotten worse yesterday when he'd learned from his dad's own mouth that the man had mated Rose's mother on the same night he'd been visiting Rose in her sleep. His Veela was extremely resentful of the fact that its father (who shared its life with Draco) would claim a second mate, when Scorpius wouldn't even go after their first.

Things had finally come to a head tonight at dinner when he'd yelled at his grandmother when she innocently asked him how he was feeling. After apologizing profusely and explaining that things weren't going as smoothly as he'd hoped, and that as a result, he was irritable and easy to rile (his grandfather had simply scowled at that), he excused himself from the rest of the meal and scurried up to his bedroom for some privacy. There, he'd wanked hard to the too-real vision of licking Rose's sweet creamy release from her thighs and pussy, but even that wasn't enough to sate the damned Veela within. It bitterly huffed that it thought Scorpius was acting like a vagina himself for refusing to go claim his mate right away, and in desperation, he'd struck a deal with his other half: he'd visit Rose in the dream world tonight and attempt to kiss her. The Veela tried to negotiate a little grab-and-squeeze in there, too, but after a drawn-out mental battle, eventually settled on the idea of simply tasting her lips.

It still called him a wimp, though.

Yeah, no performance pressure there.

As he showered now, Scorpius considered his new lot in life once again. It was the strangest sensation sharing his body and his consciousness with another being that, no matter which way you turned, you could never get away from. Quite honestly, he was beginning to feel mentally and emotionally suffocated by his Veela half. As an only child growing up in a really big home that was mostly empty, he'd come to appreciate the quiet and calm of having his own space; he'd always liked to relax in solitude while reading, scheming, or flying–his three favorite hobbies before puberty–and later, when he'd discovered his dick, wanking. When he'd gone off to Hogwarts, he'd discovered quickly that it had seriously cramped his style and frequently pushed the boundaries of his patience to share a dorm with four other blokes. There had been times he'd just wanted to scream at them all to shut the fuck up and get out for a little while so he could have enjoyed a single blasted hour of peace.

Living with the Veela was like living back in the dorms – only it was exponentially worse, because there was no escape to the library or the Quidditch pitch or to the lake shore when silence was necessary to keep him sane. His bestial side never shut up, except when it was sleeping. It constantly had something snarky to say to or about him, too. In truth, the thing didn't seem to like him very much, which was odd given they'd resided in the same body together for the entirety of their lives. Although they hadn't had any conversations prior to the Veela coming fully awake, it wasn't as if they hadn't shared Scorpius' early life experiences.

Or maybe that  _was_  the problem. After all, his Veela had been a front-row voyeur for all of Scorpius' life until the Transition. Maybe the creature hadn't agreed with how Scorpius had conducted his life thus far, or how he had treated its mate as a young man.

He definitely knew it didn't approve of his cautious approach to Rose now, and it was doing everything in its power to try to bully him into claiming her as soon as possible. Its approach had become more and more creative over the last few days in that respect, too. For instance, it had taken to getting even with his refusal to listen to its demands by flashing in his mind erotic fantasy images of Rose at every opportunity, causing him to, quite literally, perk up in his pants at the most inappropriate times. Like yesterday, when he'd been standing in line at Flourish & Blotts, and the Veela had decided to take that exact moment to throw at him a hot vision of him shagging a seventeen-year-old Rose against a wall in the dungeons back at Hogwarts. The fantasy had included that sexy, plaid uniform skirt of hers shoved up around her naked waist and his mouth latched onto her throat. She'd been bare-bottomed, dripping wet, and had panted his name in his ear as she'd held on for dear life during his pounding of her pussy. Scorpius had instantly sprung a boner so hard (and painful) at the imagining that he'd had to button his robes together in the front to cover the tell-tale bulge in his trousers, and had limped out of the shop in a hurried gait to quickly Apparate home to take care of the problem.

When asked by Marcus Zabini what it was like to be possessed by the Veela, the best example Scorpius could come up with was to equate it to having a Siamese twin whose mental maturity level was that of a very temperamental, incredibly horny sixteen-year-old boy. The beast's sole focus seemed to be in claiming and then shagging its mate into the mattress, hopefully impregnating her in the doing, and jealously guarding her away from any and all who threatened those plans. It was, quite honestly, the most overly-sexed, obsessively  _annoying_  creature he'd ever known (which was saying a lot, considering he was best mates with Marcus, who'd fuck anything and was often  _quite_  irritating on purpose).

For all intents and purposes, the Veela was a being all unto itself; it had a consciousness, emotions, dreams, wishes, and wants. It's only failing was, it didn't have its own body. It had to share a physical form with Scorpius, living off of him like some kind of parasite. The thought kind of sickened him, honestly. How his father and grandfather had coped with such a thing for so many years made him respect them all the more.

Which brought him around to another unpleasant thought: his father had mated Rose's mother! How in the seven layers of Hell did something like  _that_ happen? The whole thing of second mates had been explained to him, sure, so he got the mechanics part of it down, but why  _Rose's_  mother? Maybe it had something to do with that set of rather sexually-charged exchanges between the two parents at tea the other day. They had seemed terribly familiar. Had his dad once had an affair with Rose's mum? Was such a thing even possible as the woman hadn't been his mate until the other night?

How that relationship would even work was confusing to him. Was Hermione Granger-Weasley now a Malfoy? Was she legally his step-mother, or did the Ministry not recognise such a thing until they officially married in the traditional human way? Scorpius also understood well that the Veela's ultimate purpose was to impregnate his mate, and that the Third Mark would ensure such a thing happened. So that meant Hermione had conceived the night his father had mated her. That child–a male, without a doubt, as a Malfoy had not had a daughter in centuries–would be a sibling to both Scorpius  _and_  Rose. Would he inherit Theodosis' curse as well?

It was all a little too weird for his tastes. Now he understood how the royalty of Europe must feel, with all the convoluted intermarriages.

Rinsing the shampoo out of his hair and the soap off his body, he shut the water off, toweled himself down, and brushed his teeth for bed. That done, he hopped in between the sheets and turned off the lights with a wave of his wand. When he'd finally laid his head back upon his pillows, he engaged in one final conversation with his Veela with the intention of making his animal side understand who ruled the roost.

 _Remember: only kissing tonight_ , he firmly established.

 _Shall I cluck at what a chicken shit you are,_ the Veela snarked, _or would mewling at your pussy-ness be preferred?_

Scorpius restrained his temper, bit back a nasty retort, and struggled to keep his blood pressure at somewhere below the level of the ceiling so he wouldn't suffer a fatal aneurysm. " _If we push Rose too fast, she'll do something drastic – like run straight into Corwin's bed and stubbornly chain herself there. You know what would happen then. Even if he is a wanker, I don't relish the idea of explaining to the family why I murdered my own cousin, thank you very much."_  He sighed. " _We're trying to woo her here. Wouldn't you prefer our mate to want and like us of her free will?"_

He could feel his Veela's prickly impatience steadily mount. _She will. Leave me alone with her for a minute, and I guarantee she'll like us just fine. She'll be crawling all over us to mate her._

 _I don't want to trick her into it,_ Scorpius argued, letting some of that heat under his collar flare into his tone. _If we use your Veela powers to force her to heel, she'll resent it and make us both pay for it later when the pheromones wear off. She's the type to hold a grudge, too. She could make the rest of our lives miserable, if she wanted to. Is that what you want?_

The Veela growled, but did not reply. Scorpius could feel it mulling over his words.

 _Look, just let me take lead on this one,_ he negotiated. _I wasn't on my game at the Tea Shoppe, but I can control my temper now that I've got a better feel for her. She's scared and feeling defensive because this has been dropped into her lap without warning, that's all. I'll be charming and polite tonight, show her how I've changed. Then, when the time's right, I'll kiss her – show her that we can be chemically compatible without tricks. If I can arouse her interest with good conversation and a round of solid snogging, she won't want to snap our dick off. We'll both get what we want that way, yeah?_

The Veela sulked, but did not reply. Clearly, he heard the wisdom in his host's words, but was resentful that Scorpius was going to be the one in charge.

It was enough of a concession for Scorpius to relax a bit. He closed his eyes and calmed his mind, letting the mating magic take over then. All he had to do was concentrate on her face in his mind's eye, and a psychic bridge between them opened. Using the invisible spiritual tether that connected their hearts to each other's now they their fates had been linked by the arcane cosmic power that controlled such things (God, Fate, whatever it was called) Scorpius mentally stepped out of his body and into Rose's mind as easily as if he'd stepped from one room in his house to another.

**X~~~~~X**

Entering another person's mind was the easy part as long as you were strong in mind magic – which a Veela, apparently was and in spades. Scorpius had discovered that little detail after his first successful attempt to break into Rose's thoughts a few nights ago.

The thing about walking from one's familiar and predictable skull into the grey fog of another person's head, however, was that it was nearly impossible to discern what kind of a violence one would encounter once there – especially if the sleeping party was having a nightmare at the exact moment a mental link was established. Their fear and paranoia felt very real to an interloper, and the same dangers applied to Veela mind magic as it did to wizarding Legilimency: it was quite possible one might go mad from the things they were exposed to while in another's psyche.

As soon as Scorpius entered Rose's noodle tonight, he felt that fact rather keenly; her elevated terror gripped him in with an icy hand and shook him to his core. Panicked that there was something truly wrong with his mate, it took him two tries to magically lock onto her avatar – the dream representation of Rose's self. He figured that if he couldn't coax her into coming out, he'd just have to go in and pull her out the old fashioned way.

The dark mist around him began to disperse under the weight of his and his Veela's combined wills, but there endured an incredible resistance when they tried to alter the dreamscape itself. Rather than waste any more precious time and energy trying to dismantle the nightmare, they decided to leave it in place and moved into it to rescue their mate from her bad dreams. Parting the haze, he stepped through into her consciousness…

…and stopped on a Knut, some sixth sense telling Scorpius and his Veela alike that something just wasn't right about the pastoral scene ahead.

They stretched out their enhanced senses, seeking the source of the creepy feeling.

It was nighttime, and a full, round-faced moon filled the sky. Before them stood a white, two-story house with scalloped blue and bronze trim. It was dark and there were no sounds coming from inside. The small front lawn was meticulously manicured, the shrubberies well trimmed, and the rose bushes at the base of the house were in full, glorious bloom. The little, white fence surrounding the property had a tiny bronze latch that…

Ah, there it was – the source of his unease: the front door.

Disturbing the idyllic picture of suburban utopia was the image of a distinct, bloody handprint smack in the middle of the front door. It glistened wetly against the matte white backdrop of the house. What would appear a brilliant crimson hue under the sun's brilliance was an indigo-blue under the light of the silver moon above.

"Rose?" he and his Veela called out together, extremely worried, charging forward up the walk. Cautiously, they pushed opened the front door, careful not to smudge the blood. "Rose? Where are you?"

Inside, they discovered the house a shambles. Where walls hadn't tumbled down under the weight of a fire that had already burned itself out, they were charred and damaged beyond the ability of even a well-executed  _Reparo_ to fix. Clinging remnants of yellow-white striped wallpaper bubbled, peeled, and curled away from the wall. Furniture and decorative items were scorched beyond repair or lay as melted lumps atop the ash-streaked carpet. The stairs leading up to, presumably, the bedroom area had fallen through to the basement, leaving a dangerous pit of jagged, broken boards in the middle of the room.

"Shit." Seriously alarmed by the amount of destruction all around and his mate's conspicuous absence, he called out for her, nearly shouting the roof down. "Rose, where are you?"

An odd sound off to their left captured their attention. There - someone was crying.

Stepping with great caution upon the weakened floorboards, he and his Veela made their way into an adjunct room off the main hall. Opening a door to a back bedroom, they found Rose. She was curled into a foetal position, lying on a rug in the middle of the otherwise empty room. All around her, scorch marks patterned the walls and flooring.

"Mate!" Scorpius' Veela cried, anguished by the scene before him. Quickly, the beast took control of their shared body, shoving Scorpius' consciousness back, and moved to kneel at Rose's side. "Rose, look at us, please!"

Violently, Rose shook her head, refusing the Veela's request. Instead, she covered her face with her hands and quietly sobbed.

As his distraught Veela tried to soothe their mate with hesitant, gentle touches, Scorpius took the time to observe and learn what he could about the situation. The first thing that caught his attention was that this avatar of Rose appeared not as a woman in her mid-twenties, but as she'd been at seventeen. He found that odd. Why project a younger, more coltish, less confident image of herself into her dreams when she'd clearly blossomed into her namesake as an adult woman? The second important observation was that she seemed extremely disheveled, as if she'd been ravaged or in some sort of scrap. Her hair was bound in a tight, crimson braid that trailed down her back, just as she'd worn back during their school days. Here and there, strands had come loose, however, and curled with sweat against the back of her neck and temple. Her Hogwarts uniform was a right mess as well; the dress shirt was un-tucked and several buttons had been undone, revealing a pale pink bra underneath, the blue and bronze-striped tie was unknotted and loosely draped around her collar, and the charcoal-grey skirt was shoved up around her hips, revealing no knickers. From this angle, Scorpius could clearly see the trail of blood smeared between her pale thighs.

 _Oh, no,_ he whispered, suddenly comprehending the reason for Rose's tears: her psyche had her locked into a nightmare of having been victimized. The blood of her innocence represented her shame at defilement and served as notice to others to stay away – just like the warning on the front door.

Christ, surely declaring her his mate hadn't made her feel this  _this,_  like she'd been dirty and fouled… Had it? Or had something else in her life been responsible for such a degree of self-loathing? Maybe it was just her subconscious fears manifesting instead – her imagination running wild? Whatever the cause, Scorpius had to do something to end it and bring Rose back up through the layers of her unconscious mind to a lesser degree of sleep where she had more control. This level was clearly one of her deepest, residing in her subconscious, where one's darkest thoughts resided.

 _She hates me this much?_  His Veela despaired.

 _Maybe not,_  Scorpius tried to reassure his bestial twin.  _It might have nothing to do with us. Could be something that happened to her in the past that she's buried deep down._

Oddly, his Veela seemed even more distraught by that idea. It seemed to retreat into itself, its emotional grid locking down and away from Scorpius' ability to read.

Taking advantage of his Veela's withdrawal to push his way to the forefront of their shared consciousness once more, Scorpius took back his body. As gently as possible, he gathered Rose into his arms. "Rose, baby, this is only a nightmare. Just a dream. It's not real."

Shaking her head, refusing to look at him, his mate cried harder. "Not a dream. He hurt me."

Carefully, he pried her hands from her face. She kept her eyes tightly sealed, however, refusing to look at him. Cupping her cheek, he forced her chin up, hoping to impart his willingness to listen. "Who hurt you, baby? Tell me."

She went as still as if she'd been hit with a Petrify spell.

"Rose?" A hollow, sinking dread in the pit of his stomach made his guts roil. "Who did this to you?"

Her lids abruptly opened up, and there were horrible, empty chasms where her eyes had once been.

"You did."

Scorpius fell back onto his arse and scuttled backwards until his spine connected with the wall. Under his ribs, his heart was a violent drum, chasing the heavy beat.

"You did this to me, Scorpius Malfoy," she vehemently accused. The house gave a furious shudder around them.

"I… I couldn't have," he murmured. "I wouldn't have hurt you like this!"

Rose nodded, crawling towards him. "You did. You've stolen my life from me."

"I-if this is about the mating," he stammered, licking his dry lips, "Rose, I never meant to scare you with it. I've never wanted you to feel this way about us."

"You've hurt me so much," she whispered, agonised. Stretching forth a hand, she stroked her fingers across his cheek. "Why do you always hurt me?"

Sorrow and regret passed between them, where their skin connected. It was nearly a tangible thing to Scorpius' heightened senses – the scent of falling rain and the taste of ash. He wasn't sure if he was responsible for projecting those feelings into the dream, or if these were Rose's emotions, so connected were they right then.

Something shifted inside his heart in that moment.

The block he'd put on his feelings the day of graduation, when he'd sworn to himself as Rose had walked away without even a glance in his direction that he would forget her and find someone else to warm his bed, started to come down. He still wanted her, and still loved her despite her infuriating stubbornness and her viper-like tongue. The years hadn't changed that fact (even though they  _had_  changed her from a mildly-unattractive duckling into a gorgeous swan).

He sighed, resigned to his conundrum.

"I'm sorry I can't give you what you want and change this mating between us," he told her. "We're all bound by magic here that can't be undone. But I promise you I'll try to make you happy, if you'll let me, Rose."

Rose crawled into his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. "Save me, Scor," she pleaded and softly began crying again. "Give me back my eyes. Save me."

His Veela pushed its way forward, joining him in promising, "We will always save you, love."

They wrapped their arms around her, closed their eyes, and concentrated on breaking through the waves of her emotions to recreate her nightmarish world. It was difficult to reshape the fantasies of someone else's mind, but not impossible as the two combined bent all their mental fortitude to the task.

Within moments, the cosmos of their entwined minds rescued the three of them from Rose's tormented dreams.

**X~~~~~X**

The morning sun's light was a warm caress against Scorpius' skin, and the breeze from the carousel's endless whirling whipped through his hair. With a mental thought, he slowed down the roundabout so it moved at only half-speed.

At his side, Rose's white stallion moved up and down in counter to his own horse's pace. "You did it again?" she demanded, clearly angry that he'd invaded her mind. "What happened?" She released the brass pole and rubbed at her temple. "Why does this feel… off?"

"You were having a rather disturbing nightmare," Scorpius explained. "My Veela and I pulled you out and brought you here."

She bit her lip, frowning. "I remember falling asleep, but I don't remember having bad dreams."

Well, thank Slytherin for the mind's uncanny ability to protect itself from horror.

"What was the nightmare about?"

Scorpius shook his head and shrugged, not wanting to upset her further.

Time for a little distraction…

"It's been a few days. I suppose you've heard the news about our parents by now?" he asked.

A healthy blush coloured Rose's cheeks. "I heard." She sounded disappointed, a little bitter. "Mum came crawling home the next afternoon after being shagged to within an inch of her life, and announced that she was your father's mate, but they'd decided not to change her last name so as not to convolute things for–" She hesitated, clearly not comfortable finishing that sentence.

"For our mating," he offered.

Turning her head, she looked away, concealing her expression from him.

Scorpius cleared his throat and tried not to let his disappointment sound in his voice when he changed the subject abruptly once again. "I miss riding on these things." He slapped the side of his enameled mount under him. "A little too childish for people our age, I suppose, but the carousel always reminds me of happier times." Petting the carved mane, the horse came to life under his fingers. Neighing, it snorted with faux pleasure at his touch. "The one in Paris was always my favorite. When I was a kid, my parents would take me to visit it every autumn, until I went off to Hogwarts."

He didn't need to elaborate why those trips abruptly ended, as Rose had been in the same classroom with him that first year when the Headmistress had come to give him the news that his mother had died.

Glancing down at her as his mount headed up, he noted his companion turn back around, interest and astonishment alighting her features.

Her odd expression was unexpected. "What's wrong?"

She seemed to be mulling something over, and then she reached out and touched her own mount's mane, stroking gently. It came to life with a joyful whinny. Surprised, Rose jerked back. Her horse shook its head and indicated with a toss of its snout that it wanted her to continue petting it.

The most beautiful smile overtook her face then: that of first discovery.

"You've never ridden a wizard's carousel," he realised, dumbfounded.

Rose nodded, and reached out to pet the mane, which had become real hair under her fingers. "Oh, it's–!" Her eyes shot to the poll in the middle. "Doesn't this hurt it?"

A grin tugged at Scorpius' lips. "No, they aren't alive in the traditional sense. It's just an animation spell, like a Howler. They're wood straight thought, no nerves or sensations and no consciousness of their own."

"You're sure?" She sounded suspicious.

He nodded. "I asked the same thing when I was six. Refused to get on one until someone explained it to me. Mum took me over to the operator and he showed me how it worked."

"Oh." She seemed quite impressed, her fingers lifting a few strands of the mane and rubbing it between her fingers. "Still, that's quite a feat of magic." Her gaze slid towards him and she seemed to consider her next words carefully. "Paris, huh? I've never been."

He threw her a hesitant smile, pleased that she was asking him something about his past and not outright screaming at him to let her out of the dream. Maybe their parents' mating had something to do with her very slight change in attitude? "It's certainly brighter, louder, and livelier than London, but definitely worth visiting. You'd love the shoppes on Le Petit Marais, their version of Diagon Alley – especially the bookstores. You could get lost in there for hours… which would be Heaven for you, I bet. And there are nice boutiques and restaurants right there on the main strip, too." He smiled, recalling happier times. "Their Quidditch shoppe isn't as big as the one in The Alley, but their potion's emporium has ours beat, hands down. Three floors of additives, catalysts, combustibles, bases, and decomposers – everything you'd need to brew any kind of potion you wanted. You could find some really weird things pickled in jars there. It was my second favourite place to visit in Paris."

Rose looked at him as if she was seeing a side to him she'd never guessed existed. A pretty blush covered her cheeks. "You sound like you enjoyed it very much."

Scorpius shrugged, embarrassed that he'd sounded like a namby-pamby in front of the girl he still very much fancied. What man went on and on about shopping, for Merlin's sake? "Good memories. Anyway,  _La Ville de L'Amour_  is where my mum and dad officially mated and I was conceived." He gave her a leering, suggestive smirk. "I guess they got caught up in the city's allure, too."

His partner cleared her throat. "How very romantic."

He paused and looked at her. "Are we actually having a pleasant conversation? Does this qualify as  _talking_  then?"

He'd meant it to be teasing but clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say.

"Why am I here?" she demanded, sitting straighter in her horse's saddle and attempting to cover her bared legs with the skirt of the summer dress Scorpius had conjured for her to wear. "I told you I didn't want to see you again."

Discouraged by her abrupt change of mood and the ice in her spine, Scorpius frowned. "Yeah, well, I ignored you, baby." Swinging his leg over the side of his saddle, he dismounted his ride. Instantly, his horse became solid and unmoving again. With a thought, he first slowed and then stopped the carousel's motion, too. Crossing over to Rose, he lifted a hand to help her down from her feisty mare. "Come on. Time to get off the ride."

That dangerous glint was back in her eyes, coupled with a stubborn set to her jaw. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Scorpius. Now, let me out of here so I can get some real rest. The last time we played this waltz, I was exhausted the next day. I have practice tomorrow and can't afford to miss sleep."

It was a tremendous effort for him not to lose his temper, especially with the Veela snickering at him in the back of his head as if to say,  _'told you so.'_  Taking a deep breath, he left his hand up between them and jerked his fingers in a 'get your arse down here' gesture.

"Stop being so stubborn, Rose. At least let me help you down."

She considered it, but seemed on the verge of rejecting his offer.

Purposefully leering and smirking at her, he withdrew his hand. "Fine." Crossing his arms, he sat back on his heels and let his gaze roam over her from top to bottom. "Give me a nice show when you try to get down on your own. That dress does wonders for my libido already, but with it shoved up around your hips…"

Sighing in anger, Rose glared at him. "You control the dream. You're the one making me wear this ridiculous get-up. Give me Muggle jeans instead."

"Naw, I've decided that I love looking at your sexy legs too much."

Snarling something under her breath about all Slytherin males being perverts, she flipped her leg over the opposite side of the horse, giving him a nice peek at the white satin knickers he'd ordered up for her, and then she hopped down all on her own. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten that she was in heels. When she came down, one ankle gave and she stumbled to her knees.

"OW!" she yelled.

The sound of his mate in distress pulled at Scorpius in a way he'd never believed possible. He'd been able to bypass the instinct in the nightmare because he'd known that wasn't the conscious part of Rose, merely a little part hidden within her mind. This, however, was the whole and real deal before him, spiritually speaking. Her pain triggered his Veela's instincts to protect and care for her.

Hurrying to her side, he knelt down just as she'd turned her ankle and looked at it to assess the damage. "Oh, hell!" she grumbled, trying to undo the strap of the shoe he'd created to go with the dress. The angle wasn't good for her reach, however.

It was perfect for Scorpius', though.

Gently, he started unbuckling the shoe's strap. Rose jerked and hissed in pain. "Let me help," he bid and slapped at her hand as she reached out to shove him away. "Geez, Rose, you act like I'm going to cut your foot off. Just hold still." With infinite care and patience, he got the shoe out of the way and the leg straightened. Rubbing over the injured spot, he willed her pain away. It  _was_ his dream to control, after all, and although it was difficult to manipulate her physical body within it to do as he wished, he did have some influence over how the environment affected them. "Better?" he asked, smoothing his fingers over her foot and ankle, caressing it to ease the lingering ache.

Uncharacteristically, Rose did not reply.

Glancing up at her quickly to assess her mood, he found her staring at him with open-mouthed bewilderment. An attractive flush covered her cheeks again, hedging down her throat to the dip of her cleavage. Scorpius' eyes followed the descent, and he was forced to swallow down the tide of rising lust within him at the mouth-watering display of her flesh.

Rose whimpered, and the sound drew his attention back to her face. As their eyes met again there was a shift in the air between them. Sexual tension sparked against his fingertips as they gently brushed against her skin. Her eyes widened, the pupils expanded, and she licked her lips in nervous anticipation.

_She wants us! Quick, mate her now!_

Mentally ignoring his Veela, Scorpius let his fingers continue their curative massaging of Rose's foot instead. There was no lewd fondling, no crude innuendo to be found in his actions. This was merely him caring for his mate. He wanted her to see and understand his intentions, and to note his high regard for her.

At least, that's what he kept repeating as a mantra in his head to keep his body still. It was a struggle not to launch across the distance to cover her body with his own, as the Veela was insisting.  _Patience_ , he counseled his impulsive other half. _One step at a time. See, she's letting us touch her. This is progress._

"Do you like this?" he softly asked her.

Rose took a shaky breath. "Yes, it's better now. Thanks."

"Should I stop?"

She nodded. "Yes, please."

Without any argument or resistance, he withdrew from the massage, wanting to prove to her that he respected her requests. "The other shoe should come off, too, so you won't trip again." With a mental thought and a sideways glance, the remaining heel disappeared, leaving Rose barefoot. Regaining his height, he offered her his hand again, this time to aid her in standing up. Very hesitantly, his mate accepted the offer, and he pulled her to her feet, steadying her before letting go and stepping back. "Will you walk with me a bit, before we call it a night?" he requested.

Brushing her dress off, she took a step back. "Do I have a choice?"

Scorpius sighed. It had been a long night, and yet, they really hadn't spent much time together at all. He was beginning to realize that dream trips were really exhausting on his physical body. The last one hadn't been longer than this one, and he'd felt like shite the next day. This one might very well require he stay in bed a few more hours. "Yes, you have a choice. I just was hoping… We seemed to be getting along there for a few minutes, and I really liked it."

This open honesty stuff was unfamiliar territory for him, but he was trying, realizing that Slytherin tactics just weren't going to cut it if he wanted to win her trust.

He cast a side-long glance in her direction and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "Didn't you like  _not_  fighting with me for even a little while?"

She considered him in silence for a moment, and then walked past him, stepping off the carousel. "Maybe," she offered, and kept going, heading into the empty field that surrounded them. The soft, green grass at her feet was peppered with flowers that matched the pattern on her dress, he realised.

Maybe, huh? Well, it was a start.

He chased after her, catching up after only a few strides. "So, let's swap stories." He waggled his eyebrows with scandalous implication. "You tell me what your mum said when you finally pinned her down, and I'll cough up my dad's side of things."

Looking away quickly, she cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. Would she talk to him again, or remain obstinate in her refusal to have anything more to do with him?

 _Just give this a chance,_  he hoped.

She never broke stride as she opened up to him. "I'd spent the night at mum's cottage, waiting for her to get in. I'd intended to confront her about her relationship with your dad the second she stepped through her front door. I mean, I'd already guessed that something was going down between them, especially after what had happened at Madam Puddifoot's. It was really obvious that she was panting after him that afternoon… like she was in heat or something – which is definitely not a phrase I've  _ever_  wanted to use about my mother, I'll have you know."

The dress strap on her left shoulder began to slip down her arm as she moved, giving Scorpius a nice peak at her pale peach-coloured bra. He didn't think Rose noticed it, however, as she kept ranting on, arms flailing in the air as she spoke with increasingly emphatic heat.

"Plus, her bedroom looked like a tornado had touched down. There were discarded outfits everywhere, and orphaned shoes that I still can't pair off. That is  _so_  not like her! Mum hasn't shown that kind of interest in a man or put out that kind of effort for one in… well, ever, not even for dad. So, it wasn't like I didn't know what she'd been up to. But still… ew. Who wants to think about their parents doing  _it_?"

She sighed, pulling her dress strap back into place and covering up once more. Scorpius mentally  _tsk'd_  in disappointment.

"In any case, when she finally showed up back at her cottage around noon the next day, she had that  _special glow_  about her and was smiling like the cat that had caught the proverbial canary. We had it out, and she'd admitted that your dad and his Veela had mated her." She made a face like she'd bitten into sour lemons. "Did you know they'd secretly been in love with each other since they were teenagers? They'd lost their virginities to each other just before the war got into full swing, but because they'd been on opposite sides, it hadn't worked out. They'd gone their separate ways until this whole situation with us brought them back around."

No, Scorpius did not know any of that, and it made him feel both angry and sad that his father had neglected to mention such an important thing. What about  _his_  mum, Astoria? Had that meant she'd been an alternate choice for a mate – nothing more than a second broom taken off the bench and put into the game? He knew there had been resistance from both of them regarding their mating, but he'd always assumed his father had given his whole heart to his first mate once the deed had been done. Had his mother known that not been the case?

"All right, Malfoy?"

He blinked and looked around. At some point, it seemed he'd stopped walking, but hadn't been aware of doing so. Rose was several feet ahead of him, staring at him now with concern.

"Y-yeah, fine," he answered. "It's just… I didn't know that, about them being in love all these years."

As if she'd just caught on to what he was implying regarding his mother's place in that mess of tangled emotions, Rose cringed. "Oh, I'm… I'm sorry if I caught you off guard. I wasn't thinking about… That is, I didn't mean to–"

"No, it's fine. It's good." It wasn't, but he didn't need her to feel guilty for being the bearer of bad news. "I needed to know, right?"

"I suppose."

Neither of them spoke for a bit, the awkwardness of the moment a heavy burden to distribute between them.

 _You going to tag me in or should I just shove you aside again?_ His Veela snapped.

 _Jesus, grow some patience, will you?_ He growled back.

"What?!" Rose demanded, now looking a tad alarmed.

Scorpius blinked, unsure as to what she was referring. "What?"

"You were grumbling something under your breath about 'patience'."

"I was?"

"Yes." She gave him the hairy eyeball. "Were you supposed to take any special Ministry-directed meds with dinner?"

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, his bad mood evaporating in the face of her bizarre accusation. "Don't worry – the evil overlord gene skips generations in the Malfoys I'm told, so no need for medication… yet." He clapped his hands together, getting them back on target. "About the whole parents mating thing… My dad also looked blissed out at lunch that next afternoon, but was smiling like I'd never seen him do before. And he sported a rich series of love bites along his throat – both sides! Your mum's an animal, baby!" He grinned as she marched over and lightly slapped his arm in rebuke. "Seriously, the minute I got to the top of the stairs leading to the private wings, I  _knew_  he'd taken a new mate. I just didn't know who she was until dad confirmed it. Their mating scent, though, gave it away. It's all over his side of the house."

Rose was thinking about what he'd said; he could practically hear the gears turning in her head. "What's it smell like?"

He couldn't help the smile that crept up his cheek. "It's earthy and spicy at the same time, like ripe apples mixed with his favourite cologne. Can't really explain it, but it reminds me of Hogwarts at night, just after a springtime rain. Combine that with some exotic incense and… yeah, that's what it's like."

Brow furrowed, she bit her lip. "Mum smelled kind of like that, too, now that I think of it."

"Each mating pair is different," he explained, cognisant that her hand had brushed his twice now as they continued their walk-to-nowhere, causing his blood to rush through him both times. "You can always tell when my grandfather has allowed his Veela out to play because the area around him smells like Firewhisky and cloves."

"What do you mean 'allowed his Veela out to play'?" Rose inquired. "I thought the Veela was always just there."

This was one of those delicate topics he'd hoped to impart a bit at a time so it wouldn't blow up in his face. It seemed he'd have to introduce the subject a little earlier than expected. "After the first mating, the Veela is typically satisfied, I'm told." Of course, he wouldn't explain  _why_  that was just yet; too much information could spook her – especially when talking about making babies. "It tends to settle down, sometimes even falling into torpor after having achieved bonding to its mate successfully. As a result, it only puts in an appearance randomly after that, or so I'm told."

"And the scent only appears when the Veela wants sex?" she asked.

"Something like that, yeah."

She was quiet again. "So, it's possible to mate once and then, maybe never again?"

Again, he came to a quick halt. Rose was right with him this time.

Firmly, he shook his head. "Not going to happen, baby. Veela are sexual creatures, same as humans. The biologic and chemical drive is the same. You can't just shut it off, especially after it's had a taste of pleasure from its perfect woman." Unflinchingly, he met her eye to drive his point home. He didn't want any misunderstandings later. "Understand that the Veela will never give you up, Rose. It wants you, and not just for a one-night fling. And it needs you to feel complete. You'll help tame its more feral instincts and allow it to complete its destiny. That's the whole point of mating only one woman. The mate is both the Veela's anchor  _and_  its life's purpose."

Their tentative truce began to dissolve almost immediately after he'd started talking. By the time he'd finished, however, Rose looked set to unleash a firestorm upon him. "So, because he wants something– _me_ –I'm just supposed to just give up my life, my dreams, my wants? Is that what you're telling me? That I mean less than he does and we're not equal in this mating? Fuck. That." She got right in his face, snarling and ready to go down fighting. "You can tell the little blighter he can kiss my lily white arse. I'm not interested in his bill of goods. Find some other witch to obsess over." She poked him in the chest. "And if he tries to force me, tell him I'll defend myself – violently."

Inside his head, Scorpius' Veela ran the gamut of emotions as he listened to her get her rant on: irritation, exasperation, anger, and finally settling on amusement.

 _Sweet fuck, I love her,_  it thought, chuckling.

_If you do, then let me diffuse the situation, yeah? She's still frightened of you. More so now, I think. Let me fix it._

The Veela graciously stood back, continuing to allow Scorpius the run of the floor.  _Be my guest. I'm having fun watching her threaten you._

_Technically, she threatened you._

He felt the Veela's mental shrug.  _Just get to the kissing thing soon. I'm losing patience._

Scorpius sighed and held up his hands in the universal sign for 'I come in peace', trying to talk Rose down from the ledge. "Calm down, please. I told you, we'll work this situation out. I won't let him force you, Rose. I already said I wanted to go at this slowly. I want us to court you, properly. All I'm asking is for that chance. We can hammer out the other details as we go."

That compromise seemed to pacify her a bit. She stepped back and eased off the rage gauge. "I still don't understand why a Veela needs a mate at all. What the hell does it mean that I'm meant to tame its personality flaws?"

"It makes perfect sense if you understand what Veela really are under the glamour: they're monsters. Which is why they're classified as Magical Creatures," he explained.

"No, that's not right. My Aunt Fleur is a Veela and–"

"–she's only considered a Magical Being when she's in her human form. The minute she transforms into her Veela side,  _if_ she can transform at all, she's reclassified as a Magical Creature, just like transformed Werewolves and transformed Vampires," Scorpius explained. "When their bestial side is dominant, Magical Beings lose their legal rights. They can be hunted, incarcerated, and killed during those times, just like any monster. Remember the jailing of those female Veela cheerleaders for the Bulgarian team during that one Quidditch World Cup years ago? The League used iron on them to hold them down until they'd calmed. Iron burns Veela like it does the Fae. There was also the Ministry-sanctioned purging of Dementors and Giants post-war. The Aurors fell back on old laws to justify the near genocide of both species." He frowned at her. "But you should all know this. Your mother's been at the forefront of the movement to change the laws regarding such things for two decades. Whenever she made progress in the push for equality for different species,  _The Daily Prophet_  would be all over it. That was big news in my house."

Rose frowned, shifting from foot to foot. Clearly, she hadn't known.

With a frustrated groan, she covered her eyes and seemed to just fold in on herself. Her bum connected with the soft grass as their feet with a cushioned  _'whump'_  as she took a seat, sitting tailor-style. Her dress flowed over her knees, hiding her legs from his purview. "This mating thing just gets better and better, doesn't it?"

Scorpius sat down next to her. "It's got its perks. Veela may be classified as monsters, but they are undeniably beautiful. I've seen my Veela fully transformed, soon after I recovered from the Transition. Trust me, you'll think him hot. Shit, I did, and I'm not even into males."

Rose smiled at that and shook her head as if she couldn't believe he'd just said that.

Encouraged, he continued to list the merits of a Veela mating. "Plus, they're monogamous. He won't even look at another girl. You're it for him. And with you as his mate, you'll give him a reason never to become the monster he could be – a purpose beyond the need for violence and lust that is a male Veela's innate nature. You're his light of hope to be a better, more loving creature, rather than simply a creature designed for war and… uh, baby making."

"So I'm to save him from himself and a life of loneliness. And what do I get in return?"

Scorpius felt his insides flutter as he knew where this conversation was heading. There was one thing a Veela could give its mate that no one else on the planet could: the best sex of her life. The knowledge of seduction and carnal technique was programmed into their very cells. Fucking was like breathing for them – something intrinsic to their nature. Because they were wholly focussed on pleasing their mate first and foremost, that translated into an intimacy and passion during sex that was unmatched by any other species on the planet.

In asking such an innocent question, Rose was tiptoeing into territory Scorpius was sure she wasn't ready to face.

The ever-cunning, predatory Veela, however, was more than willing to take things further. It had also sensed where this discussion would take him and Rose, and now he covertly slid his consciousness forward to share Scorpius' body. Once the two melded, Scorpius was also ensnared by the idea of seducing his witch: "You will never want for anything, our sweet mate," he and his Veela replied. "We will provide the world to you if you ask for it. We will devote all of our energies towards your happiness." They reached up and stroked over her cheek with a gentle touch. "We promise you will never know anything but the ultimate pleasure in our bed."

Unfortunately, Rose's reaction to the offer Scorpius and his Veela made was not what they'd expected. Her eyes widened until there was too much white showing, and there was real terror in her features. "Scorpius? Your Veela… Please don't let him near me!"

 _Back off,_ he quickly commanded his Veela. The last thing he wanted to do was to frighten Rose again. She'd suffered enough under the sway of her earlier nightmare, and for whatever reason, it seemed she really was afraid of his Veela.

His other half despaired at its mate's reaction to its presence.  _Why?_ It nearly sobbed and retreated into itself, giving up control again to Scorpius.

"He's not trying to hurt you," he explained. "He only wants to know you better. It hurts him that you don't even want to say 'hello' to him."

Rose shivered and wrapped her arms around her waist. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure why, but… he scares me."

"Is it because of what I said earlier, about Veela being akin to monsters?" he asked, concerned if that would be the biggest stumbling block of all when it came to this mating. His girl's dislike of him could be something overcome over time, probably, but if she was truly bigoted against breeding with a creature from a different species, that could be the hex on the whole relationship.

"I don't… I don't think so," she hesitantly admitted.

Well, that was something of a relief, although Scorpius noted she hadn't  _completely_  dismissed the idea, so there was always the possibility she just hadn't determined where her prejudices lay yet. The Wizengamot was still out on that point, it seemed.

"It's not something I can control," she explained, struggling to articulate her concerns. "It's like… like that feeling you get when you enter a dark room. You tell yourself there's nothing there to be afraid of, and even if there were, you can handle it, whatever it is. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you feel fear anyway. It's irrational, inexplicable, but very real." She glanced at him from the side. "Whenever the Veela appears, it feels like I'm walking into that dark room. I can't see anything, but I can feel him." She closed her eyes and shivered. "I feel him inside me, slowly taking over."

"It's the mate bond. I feel it, too," he said, slowly reaching out to brush a strand of her glimmering, auburn hair off her pale cheek. She didn't jerk away, which he took as a good sign. "It's why I can be here now, in your dreams. We're connected by an ancient magic more powerful than either of us. It's changing us, drawing us closer."

Rose allowed him to gently trace her jaw with the back of a finger, and to turn her head more fully towards him.

"You never answered my question," she whispered as he leaned in trying for a kiss. Her heavy lashes fluttered, and then he was staring into the deepest, bluest oceans of her soul, drowning in them. "What will you give me, Scor? If I give up everything for you, what will you give me in return?"

"Unequivocal adoration," he murmured, captivated by the moment.

Rose gave him a small, sad smile, as if he'd failed some sort of test and she'd been disappointed by that fact. "If that's all I expected out of a relationship, I could just get a puppy and be done with it." She sighed. "What about fidelity, honesty, physical compatibility, and mutual respect? Don't I deserve those from the man I marry? Can't you offer those things to the woman you'd take for wife?"

Scorpius was too tongue-tied to know how to properly respond. His hesitation cost him.

Rose sighed again and made to get up, but Scorpius' Veela moved quickly, taking complete control of the body in a flash. It shoved Scorpius to the back, assuring he couldn't act to counter, and grabbed hold of Rose before she could make her feet. In a smooth move, he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, pinning her with his greater weight. A blink after they'd settled, his shirt was gone, and from his bare back, Scorpius could feel the weight of the creature's wings as they emerged, stretching wide. "Physical compatibility I can definitely give you, mate," the Veela teased, pressing his nose against her throat and inhaling. "God, you smell so nice. Your scent intoxicates me."

Pushing against his chest futilely, Rose began to panic. "Stop. STOP! Please, no!"

"Hold still," the Veela growled, gripping her wrists and holding them down so she wouldn't use those sharp nails of her on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You will! I know you will!" she countered, nearly screaming. Tears flooded her eyes. "Let me go!"

Inside, Scorpius could feel his Veela's despair ringing through his head, stabbing into his heart.

 _Best let her go,_  he counselled his bestial side with a weary sigh of his own. Clearly, Rose wasn't in any frame of mind to have this confrontation yet.

The Veela was heartbroken by his failure to win his mate's acceptance. "But… I only wanted to be near you again," he confided, his voice as brittle as his emotions right then.

The sick, hollow feeling of the Veela's guilt and regret gnawed away at Scorpius' innards. It left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. 

 _Leave it for now. I'll smooth it over,_  he promised the dejected creature.

Conceding defeat with great reluctance, the Veela whispered, "I'm sorry" to his mate. Then, he lifted her hands and kissed both the right and left the knuckles… and he let her go, drifting back into the dark recesses of the consciousness he shared with his host.

Instantly, Scorpius was thrust back into the dominant position within his body. The abrupt change was accompanied by a strange shuddering sensation, as if he'd been heartily shaken. He felt the heavy weight of his Veela's wings lift from his shoulder blades as they melted away into the magical ether, and the shadows in his vision cleared like a morning fog lifted by the sun's rays. His head itched, as his longer hair reverted to his usual shorter length, and his Veela fangs retreated back into his gums. Every muscle in his body twitched all at once, and then he returned to a state of natural balance and a sense of rightness.

He flexed one hand and became aware that each of his limbs was now under his control again – except the pounding erection between his thighs, anyway. That thing had a life of its own, as it always had since he'd hit puberty. He tried to ignore it, however, for there were more important things to consider just then. Like Rose was still freaking out.

"Rose, calm down, it's just me now – Scorpius, the chap you'd love to hex into oblivion," he attempted to soothe her. "The Veela's gone. He's retreated."

Her struggles ceased, but to his utter surprise, she burst into tears.

Aw, shit. This dream visit was really not going well. First the nightmare, now this. What a total mess!

He gathered her into his arms, sat them up, and held her in his lap, whispering apologies in her ear for unintentionally frightening and upsetting her. Rose was, at first, hesitant to accept his comfort, but eventually, she relaxed against him, and even hugged him back as she cried her eyes out against the cradle of his shoulder.

When her outburst tapered off at long last, she hastily leaned back and wiped at her eyes. "You must think me a baby," she murmured, clearly mortified. "I'm not sure what's come over me. I've been up and down since… well, since the Tea Shoppe visit."

"It's my charming personality," he tried to joke, hoping to cheer her a bit. "I've always had this effect on you, if you'll recall."

His teasing worked, somewhat: she cracked a tiny smile. "You have, actually." She became serious as she tilted her chin up and met his eye. "You're the only boy to ever make me cry, Scor."

A sharp pain of regret flashed through him. "I'd take it all back, if I could."

They stared at each other, and that buzzing tension between them once again became a living, thrumming energy in the air.

"I want to kiss you."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing."

"Then do it."

"Okay."

They met in the middle, and it was… Wow. A jolt of electricity went up and down his spine and his heart started racing.

And it ended far too quickly for his tastes.

In the next second, she was out of his arms and off his lap, moving faster than a World Cup Snitch. "No, no,  _no_! I can't do this," she protested, pacing back and forth, flustered. She ran her hands through her hair and brushed down her dress, clearly agitated. "I can't be just another one of your belt notches."

"What? You wouldn't be!" Scorpius protested, getting to his feet as well. "Why would you think that?"

Rose gave him a pointed side-long glance. "Because that's your well-established pattern, isn't it? I've been paying attention since we were fifteen, and I've seen it played over and over again. It's always the same modus operandi: you get all hot and bothered over a witch, you pursue her and win her over, but as soon as you rub the new off the relationship, you toss her over for the next bit of totty. I recall the lines of crying girls back in our last two years of school, not to mention the trail of broken hearts the papers have reported over the years since. I won't be like those women!"

Fuckin' a, she was never letting go of his past, was she? "I can't change how things were, Rose, but it won't be like that with us, I swear! You're my Veela's mate. It can't be."

Resolute in her decision, she firmly shook her head. "You said earlier that the Veela goes into a kind of torpor after mating, which leaves you, its host, free to do as you please after everything's over and the mate bond's been established. Your pal, Fang-boy may be monogamous, but your track record speaks for itself, Scor. I won't be the naïve wife who accidentally walks in on her cheating husband in bed with another witch. That would kill me."

Bloody fucking hell, she really didn't trust him at all. Not that he'd ever given her reason to, really. He  _had_  been kind of a wanker towards her when they'd been kids. Still… "Look, I'm tired of this constant push and pull between us," he said, exasperated and ready to tear his hair out. "Tell me what I should do to fix this. Tell me how I can get you to trust me."

"Let me go," she suggested. "Stop pursuing me and let me come to you on my own terms, if I decide to."

"I can't! It's not up to me. You're my Veela's mate. He's chosen you, and the magic compels him to follow through. There's nothing I can do. We're both stuck in this arrangement."

She threw her hands up in the air. "That's just it. Don't you see? I don't want to be  _stuck_  with you. I want a choice in who I marry. I want a say in my own life! Besides when it comes right down to it, all you're willing to give me is, maybe, good sex. That's not enough for a marriage to work – or for it to overcome infidelity." She ran a hand through her long, crimson hair, pushing it away from her face. "Frankly, a lifetime of continual heartbreak isn't worth it in trade. I'd rather just stick to my vibrating wand and buy that puppy for companionship, thanks."

He actually growled as his masculine pride was stung to the core. "How do you know sex is all I can offer you? It's not like you've given me much of a chance to prove myself to you! And we've kissed all of one time, Rose." He held up a single finger, to emphasize his point. "One time. Tonight. And there was no tongue. How do you know you won't like that side of our relationship? I might just blow your mind."

She looked at him like he'd lost his marbles. "You really don't remember, do you? We've kissed before, Scorpius. Obviously, that time wasn't that memorable for either of us to pursue it further, though."

He frowned, confused by her pronouncement. "What? When did that happen?"

"My point exactly." She rolled her eyes. "It seems that during the post-N.E.W.T.s party, we'd both had a little too much of Zabini's bootleg Firewhisky. I don't remember it either, but Molly, Eleri, Lily, Lucy, the Finnigan twins, and Alicia all insist that you and I went down into the dungeons that night and snogged. And petted and… did other stuff." Her cheeks bloomed with colour and she unconsciously dropped her eyes to his crotch. "But that twonk, Macmillan caught us and broke it up. Alicia told me that when she asked you about it the next day, you didn't have any memory of the event."

They'd done 'other stuff'? Really? Shit, why couldn't he recall that? What sorts of 'other stuff'? Not sex, surely, or Rose would have said as much. He doubted he'd be breathing right now if he'd fucked her and forgotten; she'd have hexed his bollocks to explode and stepped right over his dying body without a second glance. As for the rest… Yeah, sure, he remembered that conversation with Longbottom: she'd asked him an odd question about having fun the night before down in the dungeons and hinting about getting caught doing something with his pants around his ankles, but he hadn't known what she'd been talking about. Now, as he wracked his brain again to remember the details, he still couldn't recall anything of that night.

"Sorry, baby, but I really don't remember that happening. If your friends are to be believed, then my reason must be like yours: an alcohol-induced blackout." He reached out and cupped Rose's chin, lifting it and letting his gaze linger on her red lips. "I'm sorry that the memory is lost to me. It was probably fantastic."

He felt his pulse speed up as her tongue peeked out and swiped across her bottom lip, as if she was thinking similarly.

"Want to try again now?" he offered. "Maybe it'll jar both our memories."

Rose's reaction to the proposal set his heart to pounding. Her pupils blew wide, and her breathing kicked up a notch, as if she were both torn and excited by the idea. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Scorpius slipped a hand over her hip and latched on. He applied the slightest bit of pressure, and they moved closer to each other until they were flush. "It would certainly answer some questions I'm sure we both have, though. Aren't you curious?"

Her breath panted hot against his bare chest. "It… it could be an experiment," she hesitantly agreed, and slid her hands up his tight abs, running her palms over every ridge and plane. "Just to see if we can remember." Her fingertips danced over his ribs and skimmed across his nipples. Scorpius shivered and lust shot straight to his groin. "Gathering evidence, that sort of thing."

Now he was the one panting.

He dropped his head towards hers, moving in for the kill. "Sure, you can think of this as a test if you want."

Lids lowering, she whispered, "Right."

He went for it all soft and gentle, letting his mouth glide over hers with the barest of strokes.

Her small, pleasure-filled gasp in response encouraged him to press a little harder, slowly turning up the heat by increments until things began to really boil between them. With small laps at her seam, he teased and challenged her.  _More, baby. Open up for me,_  he silently willed. Tentatively, she followed his lead, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

Putting the brakes on and landing the broom was impossible at that point, especially once the Veela crept up and merged with him to join in the fun. After that, his mate became his whole world. Her taste, her scent, and the way she felt so perfect and right in his arms was all that mattered.

Rose, it seemed, was similarly enchanted by what they were doing. She made adorable little mewling sounds in the back of her throat as the hint of sweet, juicy strawberry flavour flooded Scorpius' mouth. When it was chased by a hint of earthy, rich chocolate, she moaned louder and began pressing her body against his with blatant sexual interest. As the kiss evolved and the unique flavours melded and intensified in his mouth, she became more frenzied. Her short, round fingernails dug into his shoulders and she rubbed her pelvis against his in a silent appeal for his sex.

Scorpius' cock throbbed for all kinds of release as her fit, lithe body repeatedly brushed against his. Years of pent-up secret desire for this witch rather violently exploded out from him as they both surrendered to the moment, and the next thing he knew, she was on her back in the tall, green grass and he was between her legs, dying to get inside her. He shoved his hands into her soft, beautiful hair and held her still as he ravaged her mouth, suckled on the creamy skin above her pulse, and nibbled her earlobe. With his nose shoved directly to her skin, he inhaled. The scent of her body's desire surrounded him, and made him mad to taste every inch of her.

Her hands were everywhere on him; running through his hair, gliding over his spine, cupping his arse, smoothing up his sides to grip his shoulders. Her nipples were hard, little peaks that he could feel even through her bra and the cotton of her dress. Her thighs tightened around him, keeping him close.

Well, there was no question: their chemistry was utterly undeniable – even without the Veela amping things up with his mating hormones and pheromones. He'd have loved to have pushed that fact further, but he recognised that his bestial side had cheated, and that Rose would most likely be resentful of that fact once she figured it out. It was time to pull back and to give her space so she could accept the cold, hard fact that they wanted each other – and that they both had, most likely, always felt that way.

Pulling his mouth from hers, he throttled back on the passion and allowed them both to catch their breaths. "Didn't bring back any memories," he admitted, "but I definitely think that answers all sort of questions, don't you?"

Rose's cheeks were flushed with blood and her eyes a bit glassy as she looked up at him through a half-lidded stare. "Huh?" She blinked several times. "Oh… oh, yes. Um…" Her attention turned back to his lips in a silent appeal for more.

He nearly gave in.

 _Let me mate her now,_ his Veela demanded.

 _No, it wouldn't be right,_ he refused his other half.  _You used your Veela wiles on her – and don't bother trying to deny it. I know the strawberry-chocolate thing was an aphrodisiac you pumped through my mouth to ensnare her. She'll be roaring mad at us as soon as she figures that out, too, and you know it. Besides, this is only the dream world. Mating her here won't count. We have to be awake to bond her to us._

Snarling in frustrated anger, the Veela threw up its hands and sulked away into the depths of Scorpius' mind, realizing the truth in his words. It seemed it had decided to throw in the towel for tonight, thank Slytherin.

Reluctantly, Scorpius rolled off of Rose. "Well, baby, I think it's clear that we're as physically compatible as two people could possibly be. Clearly, this part won't be a problem for us."

Her reply was to turn onto her side away from him and remain mute.

Discouraged by that, Scorpius slammed his fist into the ground. "Is that so bad? Merlin's hairy balls, Rose, why is it so hard for you to accept that there's something between us – something that could be good if you'd let it?"

Rose sat up and opened her mouth, ready to blast him a new one. "I…" Her anger drained away and she faltered, appearing incredibly torn as to what to say. Clearly, she was struggling with articulating her feelings. "It's… It's because… being sexually compatible with someone isn't the same thing as… well, as loving them. Wanting to s-shag you and trusting you with everything I am are two completely different animals, Scorpius!"

He reached out, moving slowly to make sure she was aware of his intentions before grasping her two hands in his and lifting them. "Tell me what I must do."

One of her lovely, sharp eyebrows rose, as if she were surprised by the offer. "Well, to start, you'd have to start being honest with me. But as a Slytherin, isn't that against your very nature?"

He pursed his lips and sighed. "I've been told I'm more like my mother than my father, so I suppose not."

"Your mother wasn't sorted Slytherin?"

"Hufflepuff."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

He felt his cheeks heat at that admission. Not that there was anything wrong with being a Hufflepuff, but he'd had a certain reputation back during his Quidditch days for talking trash about the Golden Badgers. Now, he was confessing to being more like them at his very core than a Silver Snake.

Rose was probably tickled pink by that admission.

And since she had asked him for truth, and he'd already 'fessed up to something embarrassing, he figured he might as well go for broke: "I fancied you all through school."

His mate's head jerked back, and she looked at him as if he'd just grown a second head.

"It's true," he admitted. "Being a wanker to you was always a way to keep your attention on me, and off the other boys. I didn't realize what I'd been doing until fifth year, of course. It took seeing my git cousin flirting with you to get it. By then, though, I figured it was too late to change things between us. So, after I realised that our situation was hopeless, I doubled my efforts to make you as miserable as I was. I punished you because I couldn't have you. Stupid, I know, but too much testosterone really fucks a fellow up."

Rose stared at him with incredulity – which morphed into fury in record-breaking time. "You can't say that!" she vehemently insisted, shrugging off his hands and getting to her feet, righteously indignant. "You can't just treat me like shite for so many years and then blame it on… on… some misplaced, twisted idea of romantic interest!"

He got to his feet as well. "Why not? It's true. You wanted honesty from me. Well, there it is."

"I… You…  _NO!_ " she shouted. "You can't!"

A thought occurred to him then that sent tongues of hope dancing through his system. "You know what I think, Rose? I think you did exactly the same thing to me. You were horrible to me from Day One without any provocation and for a reason I can't even begin to understand, but I think, as the years went past, you began to fancy me as well." He stepped back into her private space and slid his hands down her waist to grip her hips with both hands in a possessive hold. Her body quivered, but she didn't push him away, he noted. "Why else would you follow my… exploits… with other witches so closely and for so long?" He leaned forward until his mouth was pressed against her ear. "Why else would you be so angry with me, if a part of you didn't believe I belonged to you in some fashion, too?"

She kept her hands fisted at her sides, but Scorpius could feel from the anger and humiliation radiating from her that he'd hit the nail on the head.

Scorpius decided that there had been enough revelations for one night. Exhaustion from holding the dream world in stasis around them for so long was beginning to take its toll. It was time to wrap things up for this session… and he intended on leaving Rose with something to think about.

"Your misguided pride, baby, is all that keeps us from enjoying each other, from allowing me to court you properly, and for us to have fun and try to make this a good mating. From you enjoying this." With a slight tilt of his pelvis, he rubbed his steely arousal against her thigh, letting her feel how very hard he was for her.

A moan slipped her lips again and her breath hitched.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

"Think about it, Rose, until the next time we meet here."

With that, he stepped away from her and released them both from the dream.

His eyelids popped open to the familiar sight of his bedroom.

And he had a raging hard-on that wouldn't be ignored.

 _You should have let us mate her, dream or not,_  his Veela snarked as Scorpius reached for his dick and started stroking, determined to exhaust himself so he could finally get some sleep tonight.


	7. Casualty of Disagreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose decides to carry on as normal, and refuses to allow the mating to disturb her life or affect her in any way. Unfortunately, reality has a way of overriding even the most stubborn person's intentions...
> 
> Things with Corwin have changed, and Rose is heartbroken by that fact.
> 
> Rose and the girls get together again for lunch, and Eleri's green-eyed monster puts in an appearance.
> 
> The third dream-walk finally reveals to Rose the details of the Malfoy's shady past, and how the Veela became part of their destiny. 
> 
> Rose discovers that bargaining with the Veela can be hazardous to her sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised October, 2015.
> 
> Remember this original story was posted as revision 1.0 before the new Pottermore material came out about the Malfoy family background, so as such, I'd invented a background for them. The fic, therefore, discounts the Pottermore canon material as a result.
> 
> Also, I really wasn't pleased with a lot of the bargaining dialogue at the end of this chapter, so I did away with it. Hope you'll agree the change is for the better.

_**CHAPTER 6: CASUALTY OF DISAGREEMENT** _

_**Wednesday, July 2nd, 2031 (late morning-afternoon)** _

Awake and lying abed despite the lateness of the hour, Rose flipped through every single one of her favorite fantasies that morning, hoping to ease the arousal that burned through her, but none of her self-induced climaxes was enough to do the trick. Despite more than an hour of rubbing, pinching, stroking, and coming, she was still desperate for sexual release.

And not just from anyone. Specifically, she was frenzied for  _them_ —for Scorpius and his Veela.

For Merlin's sake, they hadn't even truly touched in the real world yet, only in dreams, and yet her need had been inflamed from a distance, while she slept _,_  and from only few imagined kisses and a little playful fondling! Gods above, what would it be like if they were to do such things for real? Would she rip off her clothes, fall to her knees, and beg Scor to shag her rotten?

Hell no! She would  _never_  do something so humiliating and pathetic! No, absolutely not! Not going to happen! Nuh-uh! Not in this lifetime! Never…

… _say never_ , a taunting voice in the back of her head reminded her of the old adage.

Bloody buggering, burning, blobby hell!

**X~~~~~X**

After thinking about the situation a bit more calmly while showering and dressing for her day, Rose made a firm decision that no matter how attractive Scorpius Malfoy and his Veela may be or how hot the two of them made her she absolutely refused to give them the chance to degrade her ever again. There had been enough of that back when they'd been children.

Bottom line: this whole situation had the potential to ruin her on so many levels that the risks far outweighed the advantages. First, it could do some major damage to her feelings about relationships in general, which was something she'd struggled with since her parent's divorce years ago. Second, it could also mess with her self-esteem, which had taken some serious work to lift up from the floor and dust off over the last few years after feeling like an ugly duckling all her life. And third, and worst of all, it could seriously break her heart. She didn't relish the thought of going through any of that, thanks very much, so it would just be better to tell Scorpius and his Veela to go take a big leap off a high bridge and to forget the Cushioning Charm on the way down.

Now, if only she could convince her body to be on the same page as her mind, everything would be just peachy.

Speaking of… her arousal was still in full bloom, despite her best efforts to ignore it. God, it was frustrating!

 _"From this point forward, you and Scorpius are going to be drawn to each other on every level. It begins with intense attraction, because that's where a Veela's power and innate talent resides. As the days pass, your desire for each other will only increase,"_ the elder Malfoy had explained _. "The more you interact, the deeper your bond will become and the faster your feelings will shift to align with the Veela's. Even without the backing of the Ministry law behind it, it's not something you're going to be able to deny or fight."_

She squeezed her thighs together, feeling the dull, throbbing, itchy ache that refused to go away, and cursed like a sailor under her breath. Damn that Scorpius Malfoy! Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She'd been going along just fine without him in her life for years—and apparently the same had been true for her on his end, if the gossip rags were to be believed.

And yet…

 _"I fancied you all through school,"_ he'd admitted.

Her Aunt had hinted something similar, too:  _"Your Malfoy will love you with all he eeze, if you will let him. He already does I think. Eet is why zee mating magic chose you."_

Could that be true? Did Scorpius really have some feelings for her? Could she believe him? Or had that just been a good tale told to try to win her over? She didn't know the man he'd grown into well enough to trust him, and all of the information she did have from their childhood interactions as well as from years of sensationalist journalists slathering his reputation all over the news painted the picture of a man not to be trusted in affairs of the heart.

She swore some more. When it came to Scorpius  _slagging_  Malfoy, why were her feelings permanently convoluted? Why had he always seemed to have the ability to tear her up and leave her reeling? What was his bizarre influence he'd continually seemed to wield over her since they'd parted ways at school, so much so that she'd fly into a rage whenever she caught a glimpse of him on the cover of  _Witch Weekly_  with his flavour-of-the-month clinging to his arm? Why had something that inoffensive and really none of her business even hurt her? It's not as if they'd been lovers at one time, and she the jilted party left behind.

So, why did it feel that way during those moments?

Yes, okay, if she were to be completely honest with herself, yes, she'd secretly fancied him during all of their schooling together, most especially their sixth and seventh years. Practically every girl had, though, as he'd been one of the school's heartthrobs. Yet, he'd never given any indication of interest in her as anything other than his rival on the Quidditch pitch, in the classroom, in matters of Houses, and as a Weasley to his Malfoy. Besides, he hadn't been the only boy she'd fancied then; there had also been Corwin to catch her eye. Still, those immature, un-reciprocated feelings for Scorpius shouldn't have been enough to cause her to become as obsessed with him as Rose had been over the last seven years, since they'd parted ways at Hogwarts.

It couldn't be Veela magic, could it? Had it somehow affected her years before Scorpius' heritage had bloomed?

No, such a thing would be impossible, as his Veela had only just woken up twelve days ago! There was no way it could have influenced her before it had even come into its own, much less for years without any contact between them… right?

Huffing with irritation, she slammed her sock drawer closed.

Oh, what did it matter where the feelings came from? That shouldn't matter! All that counted was the fact that Scorpius Malfoy had done a number on her self-esteem all through her formative years into adulthood, and that relentless attack had left behind scars that couldn't be covered up so easily. Following that, she and the rest of the world had all watched him together wade through women like water in the years since, so needless to say, she was understandably jaded to his charming words and ways now.

Besides, she had Corwin. With him, she'd been able to give in to the need to be spontaneous and wild, and so far, it had been wonderful between them. Gentlemanly, sweet, sexy Corwin McLaggen had made her feel alive. With him in her bed, she'd begun to contemplate the possibility that it was quite possible, despite her parent's failed example at marriage, to have great sex  _and_ great love together, without sacrificing one for the other.

And yet…

And yet…

The spark she'd once felt with Corwin wasn't quite as bright as it had been, she had to admit. Something inside her had changed over the last few days. It had been a slow creep, a gentle blanketing of the feelings she had for anyone else, and it was slowly suffocating her. Scorpius' game-changer was ruining her life.

Fuck that, she refused to let it! She had a shot at happiness with Corwin, and she intended on taking it.

—Which meant, she had to remain staunchly against Scorpius' attempts to touch her again, dream or otherwise! She also had to stop thinking of him, including what sex might be like with him.

With supreme effort, she kept her hand from returning between her thighs in an attempt to quell the fiery need between her legs. Instead, she hit the kitchen and made herself a late starter. That done she grabbed her wand and her gear for Quidditch practice, and Apparated out of her flat onto her team's pitch.

Today she wouldn't give another thought to Scorpius Malfoy, her decision made where he and his Veela were concerned.

**X~~~~~X**

To Rose's dismay, and despite her resolve, she ran into trouble focusing on her game at practice.

It seemed her head just wasn't into perfecting a new dive-roll technique for catching the Snitch, as her coach had shown her. Instead, it was fuzzy from the night's too-little sleep and still painfully aroused, to the point where she was becoming quite testy as a result.

Two hours into it, she ended up almost colliding with the exhibition stands after the handle of her broom rubbed her just right between her legs as she shifted. The result was an electric shot straight up her spine that had felt so good her eyes had rolled back in her head, but she lost control of the broom and tumbled downward at a dangerously accelerated rate. Before she was able to pull out of the crazy descent, she hit her arm on a passing wooden beam and bruised it something fierce. With a Healer on-call for such emergencies, she was quickly salved up with Anti-Bruise paste, but when offered the foul-tasting pain medication to go along with it, she flat-out refused, not liking how drowsy it tended to make her.

Calling her done an hour earlier than usual, the coach sent her home with a warning to get some rest. Grouchy at being so dismissed, Rose Apparated home, showered again, and changed into a sexy lingerie set, a pair of Muggle jeans, a favorite tee, and a pair of comfy trainers. Putting her hair up into a high ponytail, she applied some lip gloss and mascara, and decided to ignore her coach's advice. Instead, she decided she'd surprise her boyfriend and catch him as he was finishing up his own training. Perhaps she could convince him to join her for a little fun in the Alley.

If there was anyone who could help get her out of her funk, it was Corwin, surely.

**X~~~~~X**

The Magpies were just calling it a day when she appeared at the edge of their pitch. As the team members descended on their brooms, they recognized her (how could they not in what she was wearing?), calling out 'hullo!' and making good-natured ribs about her poor taste in apparel.

Corwin's grin stretched from ear to ear as soon as he saw her, and he laughed out loud at her choice of tees. "It's laundry day, yeah, and that was the only clean shirt you had available?" he teased, dismounting his broom and hurrying over to her to gather her up in a big, sweaty hug.

"Don't you like it?" she coyly asked, fingering over the lettering of her purple and white  _'I heart the Holyhead Harpies'_ shirt. "I thought it would bring a little splash of colour into your world. Your uniforms are so terribly dull, Cor. White on black on grey - monochromatic much?"

He spanked her arse once and growled in her ear, "Makes me want to rip it off of you and shag you hard right here."

On board for a good rough-and-tumble just then, she rubbed her crotch against one of his thick, powerful thighs. "Why don't you?" she dared him, her nose meeting his, her eyes half-lidded in challenge.

Challenge accepted in a flat second, he lifted her easily with one arm, remounted his broom, and flew them to the top of one of the observation towers. As soon as they got there, he dropped his broom and kissed her, all open-mouthed and breathing desperation to have at her again.

After casting the combination Contraceptive-Disease Charm upon her belly, her wand and their clothing were lost in a tussle of quick movements, and then he had her pulled onto his lap and impaled upon his very stiff cock as he sat on the bench and they faced each other. Cajoling her with naughty words, Corwin bounced her up and down on his lap with fervor. Despite being slick and more than ready, it became exasperatingly clear to Rose within moments that she wouldn't be able to come, her body not responding to her boyfriend as it had previously. She faked it, though, not wanting him to know her disappointment, crying out with him and mimicking the motions as if she were experiencing orgasm as he came inside her.

 _I will not cry_ , she firmly told herself in the afters _. A girl doesn't always come every single time she has sex, after all._

Reasoning that her failure to achieve release was most likely a result of the fact that she'd already gotten off a couple of times that morning, and pardoning her sham orgasm by telling herself that Cor probably hadn't noticed anyway, she held back her tears and kissed him, allowing her mouth to properly revere him even if the rest of her body couldn't.

_I will not cry!_

"That was awesome, Rosie," Cor practically purred in contentment in her ear, his hot breath blasting against her throat. "You are always so amazing." He lightly spanked her again and kissed her hard. "So, did you come all the way over here just to molest me, then?"

She shook her head, playing lightly with the short hair near his left ear. "I wanted to know if you would go to the Alley with me for some ice cream, actually."

"I'm allergic to dairy. Lactose intolerant," he admitted somewhat sheepishly. "But I can come along and watch you eat all the fattening ice cream you want."

Something about the way he'd said that didn't settle well with her. "I'd only get a small scoop, hardly enough to put anything on my hips. And it's not like I don't exercise like mad." She shrugged, her mood plummeting even further. "We could go somewhere else if you wanted instead. Maybe Flourish & Blotts? The Scamanders have a new book out. Could be fun to find out what new creatures they've discovered on their safaris around the world."

He shook his head, amused. "Only you, Rosie, could find a trip to the book store a romantic date setting."

Now her mood was turning black. Disentangling from her lover, a cool breeze hit her fanny, and she looked about, realizing in a second that not only was she completely naked for the whole world to see, but additionally, she was feeling a touch emotionally vulnerable from Cor's unintentional callousness. She quickly gathered her clothes and redressed, then reclaimed her wand. "What's wrong with that?" Casting a _Scourgify_  over herself to get rid of the mess of their sex, she shook her head. "Look, let's just forget it. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea, anyway. Not well-thought out, I know." Fiddling with her wand, she refused to look at him, staring out over the wide expanse of the empty pitch, her mind absently noting the landscape. "Honestly, I'm a little more tired than I thought, I guess. And what we just did…"  _Made me feel a little weird_ , she thought, but did not say it aloud. "We can try again another day."

As she stepped away, Cor grabbed her hand and stopped her. Unabashedly, magnificently nude, he made his feet and came to her, hugging her tightly into his chest. "I'm sorry if I said something to make you upset, Rosie. I was just playing." He kissed her temple. "Let me get dressed, and we'll go to Fortescue's and Flourish & Blott's, okay? We'll have a nice evening together."

_I WILL NOT CRY!_

She shoved the thought down her throat, determined not to be so stupid and weepy. It was only an orgasm, for Circe's sake—no big deal.

Even as she nodded in acquiescence to her boyfriend's plan, in the back of her head, a little voice kept whispering to her that her inability to find sexual enjoyment with Corwin was a  _much_  bigger deal than she was admitting to, however.

**X~~~~~X**

_**Thursday, July 3rd, 2031 (morning-afternoon-evening)** _

Scorpius hadn't come to her last night, thank Merlin.

That turned out to have been a very fortuitous thing, too, because Rose had been having a rather delicious dream involving Scorpius fucking her to heaven up against a wall in Hogwarts' dungeon. She'd climaxed as his cock had pounded her wet, eager core, and she'd again when he'd cried out that he'd loved her as he come deep inside her. Then, even as he'd shuddered and released into her, he'd sunk his sharp Veela fangs deep into her throat in the ultimate proof of his possession of her body, and she'd orgasmed again.

That last time had been so intense she'd woken up, sweating and shaking, her body singing with lust. God, she'd have died of embarrassment if he'd seen how willing and wanton she'd been for him!

Staring up at her too-white ceiling now, Rose dashed away the frustrated tears from the sides of her face, letting anger cool her ardour. In truth, she was disturbed and knocked off-kilter by the growing strength of her desires for Scorpius, while her feelings for Corwin, the man she'd been falling in love with before any of this had begun, were continued to diminish.

None of it was right or fair! She hadn't asked for this to happen, and apparently, she couldn't escape it either. Magic and a fucked up set of laws were going to assure it.

No! Absolutely not!

In the end, this forced mating was nothing more than a rape of her free will, and eventually, of her body. Well, she wasn't going to lie here and let that happen to her, like some helpless female! She was a Weasley, of a Granger, and that meant she would straighten this mess out, even if she had to lay someone out flat to do it!

Today, there was no practice, so after a quick shower and breakfast, she headed down to the Ministry law library to do some research on the legal issues surrounding Veela matings. She held onto hope that there may yet be a way out of this arrangement with Malfoy, thoughts of a future with Corwin foremost in her mind. Jen the Librarian was extremely helpful in gathering up resource materials and allowing her to use a Replication Spell (an invention of her mum's) to take home pertinent pages. Together, they managed to copy over one-hundred and fifty pages worth of material – everything the library could offer on the subject.

That had taken the better part of the day to accomplish, and it wasn't until four o'clock that Rose had dragged her bum back to her flat, a thick stack of paperwork in hand.

Lucy had appeared with Eleri and Lily around six o'clock to convince her to temporarily abandon her efforts to grab some dinner with them in the Alley.

Changing her grungy clothing for something more appropriate, the girls headed out to Ringo's, a wizarding pub named in honor of the half-blood former member of that famous insect group that the Muggles had gone bananas over some seventy years previously. The place was packed, as Thursday nights were always specialty drink nights.

Ordering a pint of beer on tap and a burger with chips from the bar (standard fare now in the wizarding world, after the war had seen an increase in the adoption of many things Muggle, most especially the food selections), Rose took a seat next to her friends at a table against the wall and watched the comings and goings of her fellow magical practitioners, all the while enjoying the sounds of a live classic rock band playing a set cover of songs by The Weird Sisters in the corner of the room.

"So, how's the thing with Scor coming?" Eleri launched right in during a lull in the music.

Rose shrugged, trying to play it cool. "He's invaded my dreams again – tried to get me to admit to liking him physically."

Lily snorted. "That's not too hard a task. Have you  _seen_  his arse in jeans?"

Lucy simply nodded in agreement.

Sighing, Rose tried to convey her annoyance. "It's not that simple. I'm with Corwin."

From across the table, Eleri's odd violet eyes watched her carefully as her friend sipped a margarita. "So, you're not going to break it off with McLaggen, then - even while Scorpius is chasing you?"

"Why should I?" Rose asked. "He's probably shagging his way through London even as we speak."

"Doesn't that bother you?" Lucy asked gently. "I mean, I'd be angry, if it were me."

Snorting, Rose took a good swig of her drink. Maybe she would get nice and hammered tonight. She could just take a hangover potion in the morning before heading off to practice… "It's not like it would be a big surprise. He's a total slag and everyone knows it. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd had half our class and then some back in school."

"I bet he did," Lucy reminded her. "Well, except me. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I, regretfully, never got a piece of that. I know Alicia didn't either – she was too hot for Marcus the whole time we were in school. Molly – she won't do younger guys. It's older men for her or bust. The twins… eh… maybe. Who can say with them?"

Rose filled her mouth with a bite of her burger rather than reply and come off sounding catty. In between chewing, she considered how many of her family members might have actually slept with her supposed Veela mate. Had Lily? What about Roxanne, Victoire, Dominique? Hell, for all she knew, he might have even seduced her Aunt Audrey after her divorce! Or worse, Albus, who was obviously bi.

Jesus, had he fucked men, too? If so, that could exponentially up the number of partners he'd had!

Seriously, had anyone  _not_  fucked Scorpius Malfoy, aside from the obvious?

"You okay, Rose?" Lily asked. "You look a little green around the gills."

Rose chugged some of her beer. "Can we not talk about my supposed 'mate' and his slaggy sex habits? I'm eating."

Everyone went silent at the table again, only this time, there was a palpable awkwardness.

"Sorry," she grumbled when her mouth was clear. "It's just… we kissed."

Eleri started, and swiftly looked up at her, surprise evident in her features.

"Not in the real world," she amended. "In the dream."

Squirming in her seat, she realized how uncomfortable it was to admit such a thing aloud because it meant, first and foremost that she couldn't deny it later to any of these people (or to the rest of her family and friends, because word of this conversation was definitely going to get around), and second, that she had, in fact, cheated on Corwin – and with his cousin, no less. Rose had never done such a scandalous, disloyal thing before, and found the guilt a terrible sensation to live with now. How had her mother been able to do this – love one man in her secret heart while lying in bed next to her husband?

"H-how did that come about?" Eleri asked, putting her sandwich back down on her plate and politely wiping her mouth with her napkin.

Rose took a deep breath. In for a Sickle… "I was having a nightmare, and he must have felt my distress through the… bond, connection, whatever it is we've got going now. He went in and pulled me out of it, into a calmer dreaming state. I don't remember what the nightmare was about, but I felt 'off' after that. I was weak. And he was so very  _nice_! Polite, even. Almost charming. Completely different from our childhood days. It was hard not to… not to want to…"

She glanced at Lily and Lucy, noting their meaningful smirks.

"Oh, stop. It's not like I wanted to–"

Actually, she had wanted to, and that was the problem.

God, her cheeks felt like they were on fire!

Clearing her throat, Rose attempted to regain a bit of her dignity from where it lay on the floor among the rushes. "Whatever. A moment of weakness, that's all it was. And he most likely worked that freaky Veela mojo on me anyway, so absolutely none of it was my fault."

"Freaky mojo? Right," Lily snarked, stealing a chip from Rose's plate and nibbling on it. "He was wearing jeans, wasn't he? I told you, his arse is fantastic in jeans!"

"How would you know?" Rose snapped at her cousin, bristling at the thought of Lily checking out her mate's–

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.

Mate. She'd actually thought the word. Acknowledged it. Not good AT ALL. It was time to throttle back on the harpy and focus. She took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. "Sorry, Lils. Ignore me. I'm feeling–"

"–like a psycho Veela beast?" Lucy supplied.

"Off," she countered, sticking her tongue out at Lucy. "I'm feeling off tonight, too."

"Did you like it?" Eleri asked. "Kissing Scorpius."

Rose stubbornly set her jaw and picked back up her hamburger. "It doesn't matter. I'm dating Corwin." She took a big bite out of her food, energetically munching it down.

"She liked it," Lily informed them dry amusement. She ignored Rose's glare as she tipped her head back and took a shot of something clear and, apparently, strong.

Rose stuck her tongue out at her cousin. According to Albus, Lily was "a bloody instigator," always stirring the pot and setting it on a gentle roil until it bubbled over. She came by the talent naturally, though, so Rose couldn't fully fault her; all of the Weasley women (and those who'd married into the clan) had a thing about provoking snakes. It seemed an innate charm the witches in their family shared.

Lucy became disgustingly moony-eyed. "I bet Scorpius loved kissing you Rose. A chance to finally let you know how he'd felt all those years back in school."

She snorted. "According to you girls, he  _had_  let me know back then. Remember, that embarrassing mutual wank-frig fest in the dungeon you all said I'd participated in?" She took a swig off her beer glass and pointed at Lily in accusation. "I brought it up to him, and Alicia was right: he didn't remember the incident. That meant it hadn't meant much to him either." She took another healthy nip of her beer before putting the glass down and picking back up her burger. She turned it around and around, inspecting it as she spoke, seeking a good position from which to take her next bite. "The kissing was only to prove we weren't compatible."

"But you were, weren't you?" Eleri asked.

Her froze and glanced up at her best girlfriend, unwilling to admit the truth aloud. Somehow, that felt as if it would spell her doom.

"Well, well. Rosie finally got  _something_ wrong," Lily needled, waggling her eyebrows. "I bet Scorpius just loved proving such a thing to you."

Rose felt her cheeks color, and she dropped her eyes, and her burger, to her plate.

"Ignore her, Rose," Lucy offered, putting a comforting hand on hers. "Lily's just jealous. No bloke'll have her."

"Not true!" Lily hotly disputed. "I bet I could have any man in this place in ten minutes, if I wanted!"

The girls started bickering, but the fight ended almost as fast as it had begun when Lucy threw her waded up napkin at her cousin and told her to, "Shush, so we can get back to Rose's problems!"

"So, your opinion of Scorpius hasn't changed?" Eleri asked, getting them back on track.

Rose shook her head. "I _can't_  let this mating happen. It goes against everything I believe regarding a woman's right to equal personhood and personal sovereignty. And it's invasive as hell. Besides, I refuse to allow Scorpius Malfoy the opportunity to magically control me, especially with something as base as sex pheromones. I don't trust him not to hurt me, not just emotionally, but physically."

"You think he'd beat you?" Lucy asked, chewing on the end of another stolen chip from Rose's plate. "I thought the Veela was a protector, not an abuser. That's what Dominique's thesis papers all say about them."

It was time her friends knew the whole truth. "Honestly, I  _really_  don't like his Veela. It scares me a little. It talks as if it already owns me, and it stares at me as if it already knows what I look like under my clothes." She squirmed and shivered with the creeps at the thought. "Besides, there are other ways to hurt a person that may not seem like violence at the time. My mum mated Scorpius' dad a few days ago. She told me all about it, and it sounded pretty violent, even though she claimed to have loved every second of it. There were bruises all over her where he'd left love bites and where his hands had dug in, and that's just what I could see. And she had a scar on her neck where he'd bitten her and sealed it over with magic. She says it'll never go away – that it's his mark, branding her as his." She sniffed in disdain. "As if she was chattel. How positively barbaric."

If not for the background noise of the pub, the silence between the four of them would have been  _très_ uncomfortable.

"Your mum and his dad?" Lucy finally broke the stalemate, her tone incredulous.

"Holy shit," Lily breathed out a heavy exhale. "Aunt Hermione shagged Scor's dad? He  _mated_  her? You're kidding?"

Eleri said nothing, her narrowed gaze lost in thought.

Rose shook her head. "Unfortunately, not kidding. They'd been each other's first loves back in their school days, but because of the war, they couldn't be together. They were on opposite sides, as you know from the stories, and then after the war, my mum got together with my dad, so Mister Malfoy had had to take a different mate – Scorpius' mother, Astoria."

"Wait, wait,  _wait!_  Wouldn't that make you related now?" Lucy asked, confused. "Your future father-in-law is now your step-dad, and… _ewww_ … that makes your mate your step-brother!"

Rose gave a half-shake of her head. "Mum's not officially marrying Mister Malfoy. He won't be my step-anything, and neither will Scorpius. No blood relation or martial relation at all. She's changing her last name back to Granger, though. That way, there won't be any legal issues." She frowned, still disappointed by that fact. "She's making it clear that she's no longer a Weasley. It almost feels like she's trying to deny she was ever involved with my dad."

Honestly, that bothered Rose a hell of a lot because she and her dad were tight. She adored him – always had, being daddy's little girl.

"Wow, that's…  _wow_ ," was all Lils could say, shaking her head. "How did your dad and Hugo take the news?"

Rose took a healthy gulp of her drink to whet her whistle, her mouth having run dry with the turning of the conversation. "We went to see them together the same night she came back home. 'Emergency family meeting,' she'd called it. She dropped the bomb without much preamble. You know Hugo, nothing really fazes him. He gave a 'congrats' to mum before heading out to hang with his friends. Dad... he seemed a little sad, but he also seemed as if some riddle had finally been solved for him. There was a… well, an odd kind of resignation in his face. That's the best way to describe it, I guess. He kissed my mum on the cheek and wished her the best in her new life."

"Super big of him," Lily commented. "Even if he has moved on and been married to your step-mum for years, I always got the impression that Uncle Ronnie still carried a torch for Aunt Hermione. My dad always said he, your dad, and your mum were 'The Inseparable Golden Trio,' but now it seems like they've done just that – moved apart, I mean." She pushed her fork around in her lettuce. "That's kind of depressing, actually. Like, it's the end of an era or something."

That sunk in for a few seconds with no one disturbing the thought. Then, Lucy huffed and snapped her fingers, irritated with the swift downturn in the mood. "Lighten up, ladies! You're blargging my happy-factor here!"

Lily shoved a mouthful of salad into her mouth with a muttered, 'sorry.'

Her cousin turned and elbowed Rose in the ribs. "So, tell us more about this kiss." She giggled like the deadhead she often pretended to portray. "Oooh, and what about Corwin? Merlin's hairy bollocks, Rose, now you've got two of the most eligible bachelors in all of the wizarding U.K. courting you! Talk about a dilemma!" Her eyes positively sparkled with excitement. "Or maybe you can have both of them! I've always been curious about  _ménage a trois_  action." She sighed with longing and sat back in her seat, a dreamy look on her face. "How utterly sexy and romantic!"

Eleri finished her margarita and set the glass down, still not looking anyone in the eye.

Rose picked back up her hamburger, refusing to let thoughts of Scorpius Malfoy ruin her appetite on top of everything else. "Stop getting all moony on me, Luce. There's no choice to make there. It doesn't matter how good he kisses in a dream, Malfoy comes with entirely too many negative faults – the greatest of which is his inability to stay faithful to a single woman. I refuse to be tied to a tomcat. And I won't let myself become one of  _those_  girls – you know the kind that crawls back despite the abuse because the sex is so bloody good. No fecking way."

"So, you're still refusing the mating?" Lily asked. "You really think you can do that?"

Firmly nodding, Rose straightened her spine, resolved. "I'm currently looking for a loophole in the law. That's what all the paperwork was back at my place when you lot showed up. They were copies of legal cases involving Veela. I'm going to sift through every single one of them, and if that's not enough, I'll go back and look for more material. There has to be a way out of this mating shit. It's positively mediaeval to force someone to be married against their will!"

"Before you try to end things, you should kiss him again, for real this time. Just to be sure."

Rose paused with the burger at her lips and stared with astonishment across the table at Eleri. "Come again?"

The former Queen of Slytherin glanced at her through dark, sooty lashes. "Kiss Scorpius outside of the dream. Make sure you don't want him before you toss him aside." She didn't look happy for some odd reason, a frown marring her pretty features.

Rose sniffed, turning her nose up at the suggestion. "Not a chance in hell," she vowed. "Why would you even suggest-?"

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Eleri tossed her napkin onto the table."You're the luckiest bitch in the world, Rose Eleanor Weasley, but you're just too bloody stubborn to see it!"

She ran out of the pub in a very uncharacteristic display of emotion, leaving her three friends confused by her unexpected outburst.

**X~~~~~X**

_**Friday, July 4th, 2031 (early morning – just past midnight)** _

Standing on a green hill, overlooking a valley uninterrupted by civilization, a warm breeze tickled her bare legs. Looking down, she realized she was in a rather short, summer cotton dress that cinched at the waist, buttoned up the middle, had two skimpy straps over her shoulders to hold it up, and nearly showed off her knickers. It was a lovely shade of pastel blue, that she was sure would make her eyes 'pop.' Her feet were bare. Brushing a hand over her head, she realized that her hair was free flowing down her back.

"The dress could be a bit longer," she griped at the presence she felt just behind her, unwilling to give Scorpius any leeway. He was the creator of these dreams, after all, and he could at least provide her with appropriate clothing (not that she didn't like this outfit, because she did, but that was beside the point).

"You look lovely in it," he murmured closing the distance between them, pressing his hard, sculpted body against her back and dipping his mouth to her ear. His breath, only slightly warmer than the air currents about them, made her shiver as it moved past her sensitive skin. "And this way I can properly worship your legs."

Too close. They were too bloody close!

She made to step away from him, but he seemed to have anticipated the intent; his arms came about her to enclose her in a gentle embrace. "Hello, Rose," he greeted her with a soft kiss to her cheek. "I've missed you."

It took her two tries to speak properly. "Let me go. I didn't give you permission to touch me."

He did as she asked without debate, but remained in place, his body brushing against hers. "How have you been? It's been two days. Tell me what you've been doing. How's practice going?"

This familiarity was dangerous. He believed she'd given him the 'green light' when she'd kissed him the last time they'd met in the dream, and now he was taking full advantage of that fact.

Cursing her stupidity for even allowing that line to have been crossed, she shoved back against him to get him to stop crowding her from behind. "Stop this, Scor. We're not friends, so stop pretending as if we were."

He sighed heavily and moved several steps back. "No, we're not friends," he regretfully confirmed, "but, baby, I'm trying to be. Work with me here."

Glancing over her shoulder at him, she was completely taken aback by the vision that greeted her.

Godric almighty, he was a gorgeous man, wasn't he? Dressed in a tight, long-sleeved cotton shirt (black, with some sort of black-silver design on it), snug jeans, and wearing a silver torque about his neck, he cut quite the fetching picture. 'Casual sexy' was her favourite fashion for a fellow, and Scorpius easily carried off the look. His hair was wind-tossed, despite the fact there was no breeze to be felt in this dream, and he sported a bit of a dark gold, five o'clock shadow on his upper lip and cheeks, which added a dash of roguish charm to his very handsome features.

Just the sight of him took her breath away, and made her remember his kiss…

No, she refused to go there! She would not be led about by her sexual urges! She was a reasoned, rational girl!

She turned back around, refusing to allow the sight of Scorpius distract her.

"I don't suppose I'm getting out of here until we talk," she said with a touch of cynicism in her tone, "so fine, let's talk. Wednesday, I went to Quidditch practice. They're teaching me a new tactic for rolling to catch the Snitch, one of Oliver Wood's new maneuvers specifically designed for me as a favor to the team's owner, I was told."

She shrugged, making it into no big deal in the hopes of moving that conversation right along, jumping over her liaison with Corwin all together.

"Today was pretty long and tiring. I spent some time at the Ministry, and later met up with my girlfriends for dinner in the Alley. We were talking, and Eleri got mad at me and stormed out. I hurt her feelings without meaning to. I'm honestly not even sure why our discussion would get her so angry, but she was crying when she left. I feel really awful about that."

She was  _so_  sending her friend an apology owl tomorrow, giving her time to cool-down so they could try to work out the issue.

"And now I'm here," she finished succinctly. "The end. Can I go now?"

"No."

With a resentful sigh, she faced him and plopped her bum down on the grass. Arranging her skirt to cover her as much as possible, she kept her legs tightly closed and off to the side.

"What will it take for you to get the clue that I'm not interested in you or your stupid Veela games?"

Scorpius sat down nearby in the grass, stretching his long legs out before him, leaning back on the palms of his hands. "Stop trying so bloody hard to be mad at me all the time, Rose, especially about this. Do you think I had any more choice in it than you did? I didn't. I'm making the best of it though. And… shit, is it really so bloody awful wanting to get to know you better, to maybe even clear the air between us?"

He sounded bitter and sad there at the end. The emotion pulled at her heartstrings.

Alright, so she wasn't exactly being fair, was she? If what she'd read and been told was correct, then he'd had no say in who the Veela magic had chosen for his mate any more than she'd had, and that meant he didn't really deserve her scorn. It was more the circumstances that galled her, having her hand forced by magic and nature—two things she'd always trusted to do right by her. It was the broken system of government that enforced her enslavement to a magical mating rather than attempted to scientifically find a way out of it that upset her.

The Ministry should have been protecting her freedoms and rights, and the rights of all women forced to become Veela mates against their will, but instead it simply threw up its hands and told her and those other women to 'get over' the idea of being forcibly raped and magically bound to a man they may not love or want. It was sick and wrong, and no one seemed to want to do anything to stop it.

She felt helpless.

Was this how Scorpius felt, too?

Maybe he did… and yet, he was really trying, wasn't he? He probably felt as hand-tied as she did, but like any Slytherin backed into a corner, he was making the best of it, as he'd said. He appeared to be of the mindset that he was going to turn this disadvantageous situation to his advantage.

Should she try to do the same, as her mother had with her own mating? Or should she continue to fight and rail against the mating, as her Gryffindor father would probably encourage her to do?

Her Aunt Fleur had seemed very firm on the fact that the mating wasn't something she  _could_  fight. She seemed to think a biological and magical inheritance was an inescapable destiny, and that Rose would be better off finding equilibrium rather than generating conflict in this case. And Rose's mother  _did_  seem incredibly happy with her own mating; she'd deemed that what she and Draco Malfoy had rediscovered was 'Fate', even… and her mum didn't much hold with the concept, generally speaking.

Rose had to wonder: was this whole Veela mating thing, perhaps, a second chance for her and Scorpius, then, too?

As a former Ravenclaw, she needed more time to ponder the issue before making a firm decision as to which path she could take. She needed more information, more data collection. She didn't feel she knew enough about the Malfoy Veela inheritance to know if it was even possible to fight it.

She needed to buy some time.

"Okay," she sighed in concession and found a spot across from him. Tucking her legs modestly under her, she looked down at her hands in her lap. "You're right. We can be civil. This doesn't have to be adversarial. We're adults now. So… I apologise for the fight I started at Madam Puddifoot's the other day."

Scorpius perked up, as if her concession had given him the spark of hope he'd needed. He tossed her a shy, embarrassed smile. "And I apologise for the things I said then as well. Our history… I know it's not easy for either of us. Maybe we can try to… overlook it for right now."

"Eventually, we'll need to talk about it, though," she pointed out. "We can't ignore it forever."

He nodded. "I know, but for tonight, let's just talk about other things."

"Okay."

"Okay."

A wary silence followed. It lasted for an awkward minute or two before Rose finally broke it. "So, um, what's it like living with a Veela?"

Her… _what was he, exactly—her_   _not-quite-yet mate?_ … grinned and shook his head. "I forgot you go right for the throat. I'll tell you what I told Marcus: it's like living with a horny sixteen-year old sibling you can't shake off. All he ever goes on about is claiming you as his, the pushy, little bastard."

Scorpius spoke of his Veela as a separate entity again, just as he had the other day. It was strange, but neither her mum nor Aunt Fleur thought of a Veela as separate from the person it shared a life with, and yet in Malfoy's case, he clearly felt and knew a distinction.

It was time to find out more. "Tell me about him, your other half," she cautiously requested. "It would help me to understand you both better."

"Where do you want me to start?"

He sounded decidedly pleased in her interest.

"At the beginning," she encouraged, utilizing some of the tactics she'd learned over the years in prying information from others. Eleri  _had_  been her best teacher to this effect. "Why is your family tied to the Veela, and for how long has that been going on?"

He gave her a look that silently asked if she really wanted to know such a thing, no matter how bat-shit insane it might sound, and she returned it with one that clearly told him,  _"Yes, now get on with it."_

He grinned and sat up, crossing his long legs under him. "Right. You asked for it. According to my family's private records, the first Veela interbred into my family in the late-sixteenth century. My ancestor, Theodosis Black, ingratiated himself into the scourge known as 'The Roman Inquisition,' in an effort to find and eliminate Muggle-born witches and wizards, under the guise of aiding the Roman Catholic Church's cause. He was a pure-blood bigot who wanted to purge all possibility of Muggle-born magic users from breeding with wizards and witches, and the Inquisition gave him the ability and the right to do so under Muggle law."

He winced and shook his head with regret.

"When the French Wizarding Ministry caught up to ol' Theodosis, though, he was punished for his transgressions. At the time, there were no wizarding prisons, as Azkaban hadn't been yet turned from Ekrizdis' fortress into a prison until the early 1700's and Nuremgard wasn't built by Grindewald until the early twentieth century. Great-great granddad's story took place in the latter-half of the sixteenth century, and they were a lot more brutal back then than they are now. In those days, a wizard found guilty of heinous crimes was punished not by being physically locked up, but by being magically castrated.

"As part of his guilty sentence, Theodosis had his wand confiscated and his magic sealed away inside him so he could never use it again. Further, because he'd been such a bad boy, my ancestor was banished from western Europe and sent east to the Ottoman Empire – which, at the time, had a strict policy of beheading any believed wizards and witches. He was cursed never to set foot again on land this side of the Aegean Sea. He'd had his last name stripped from him and was instead given the official designation ' _Le Mal Foi_ ,' meaning he was a follower of what the French Ministry had deemed the 'Bad Faith,' for his crimes against the wizarding community."

Rose considered such a fate. How awful would it be never to be able to use magic again? It was the foundation of everything she was, and was almost as necessary to her as air. She couldn't imagine wanting to live after being given such a sentence.

Scorpius shifted, tucking those long legs of his against his chest. He lay his arms over them, the muscles bunching as he did so.

Merlin Almighty, he had a fine body, didn't he? He'd definitely grown up, filled out... become fit.

She had to shift her gaze to his feet to avoid feeling the burn of arousal again. Thankfully, Scorpius didn't seem to notice, too engrossed in his story.

"The Ministry expected Theodosis to die outright from such a sentence, either at the hands of the Turks or his own. He was a very clever Slytherin, though, and learned early on how to turn bad situations into advantages, and how to blend into new environments. Within a dozen years, he'd became quite the successful merchant and had started a rather prosperous trade in herbs."

Rose knew, from her reading, what that really meant. "Herbs?" she knowingly smirked at him. "You mean he was fronting as a legitimate business to smuggle in cannabis, I presume?"

Her companion grinned. "Scandalous, right?" He lost his teasing smile a moment later, however. "Actually, from what I gather, Theodosis sold more than marijuana. He was into all sort of sex-enhancing and sex-suppressing drugs, selling them on the sly to rich customers, like the sultan's  _hasekis_ , the favourite concubines among his  _harem_. The reason why my family carries the curse of the Veela is because of him and his drugs, in fact."

"Curse?" she frowned, taken aback. "I thought it was a hereditary gift, since Veela are very powerful magical creatures."

Scorpius shook his head firmly. "Believe me, it's a curse."

"How–?"

"I'm getting to it, if you'd let me."

Clamping her lips together, Rose let him finish, interested in getting to the bottom of this particular mystery.

"It was in the early spring of his fifty-second year when Theodosis met a beautiful, blonde woman on his way to the market," he continued. "She was a Veela and my ancestor was her mate, and she'd spent a whole year tracking him down, first in France where she'd been born to a family of Veela who had integrated into the French royal court, then across Europe to modern day Turkey, where the Veela were said to have originated. Her name was Daneetzah, and she was the daughter of a Marquis. Being a pure-blood snob, Theodosis refused her outright. She tried to woo him as a proper mate, and when that didn't work, she tried her Veela magic to force his hand. He turned to his sex-supressing drugs to resist her compulsion."

Wow. That was shocking... and enlightening.

"And what were the names of these anaphrodisiacs?" she slyly asked, trying to make it seem an innocuous question.

Scorpius glared at her. "I know of only one: Monk's Pepper. But I wouldn't suggest you try it if I were you. I've heard it has nasty side-effects." He gave her a sinister grin.

"I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did."

Rose sighed. He still knew her too well, even after all their years apart. Bloody git.

"Just continue," she prompted, filing Monk's Pepper into the back of her brain for research later.

He gave her one last glance that said he knew she was later going to go home and research the shit out of that little factoid he'd let slip, and then he rolled his eyes at the futility of fighting her on it and let that dog lie.

Plucking a blade of grass from the imaginary lawn instead, he twirled it between his strong, pale fingers. "In any case, the herbs great-great-grandad consumed worked like a charm to repel Daneetzah, although they did leave his testosterone at such low levels that ol' Theodosis couldn't get a boner to save his life until he went off them for a week or more at a time."

He pulled some clover up next and began playing with it, bringing it to his nose and sniffing its subtle, earthy fragrance.

"For months, she followed him around, trying to romance him instead, but he was having none of it. Theodosis continued working, growing his little 'herb' empire, and whenever he felt the need to scratch and itch, he'd go off the berries and bring home rented women to keep him company. A year after they met, Daneetzah had finally enough of that shite, though, and she nearly killed one of his lovers in a fit of jealous rage.

"When that happened, Theodosis realized that she was a real threat to everything he'd spent years building. So, he captured her and imprisoned her in his home to assure she couldn't cause him any more problems ever again. He chained her to the floor with iron cuffs—the metal works against Veela the same as it does to the Fae—and he cut off her wings, which took away a lot of her magical ability. He went off the berries permanently once she was contained, fucked her when he wanted to get off, and ignored her the rest of the time."

He tossed the clover away and looked off to the side at the horizon, clearly upset.

"He denied her at every turn, the rutting, lousy bastard, and he hurt her often simply because he could."

He was silent for several minutes, until finally Rose prompted him. "She cursed him for that?"

Scorpius shook his head. "No, she cursed him for killing her."

Sucking air in between her teeth in a hiss, Rose was shocked at the tragedy and level of violence perpetrated in Theodosis' mating. Would it be the same with her, if she kept denying Scorpius? Would she drive him to kill Corwin in a fit of jealous rage? Would she have to kill  _him_  to make him stop? Was that what it would take?

A chill ran up her spine and she hugged herself tightly, trying to will it away.

Scorpius noticed her reaction, his eyes flickering to her, catching every movement, but it was clear from his reply that he misunderstood her action, thinking it was a result of the story alone.

"Awful, I know," he said. "But it gets worse. Daneetzah eventually became pregnant from great-great-et cetera grandad's frequent attentions. When he found out about the baby, he flew into a rage, intending upon murdering the child once it was born, seeing it as a half-breed, which to him was worse than a half-blood. Desperate to save her unborn son, Daneetzah gnawed off one of her hands at the wrist and used the blood to slick the other cuff enough so she could squeeze her wrist through and make her escape."

Rose shuddered, sickened at the mental picture of the poor, brutalized woman being forced into an act of self-mutilation— _dismemberment_ —to save herself and her baby.

"Merlin," she whispered, feeling suddenly small and vulnerable. "I hope she got far away from that evil bastard."

"Sadly, no," Scorpius replied. "They were mates, whether he wanted her or not, and she was compelled by Veela biology to be near him. She stayed hidden, but couldn't be too far away, so she found a space in a building near where Theodosis lived, one with a view of his home so she could watch him coming and going. I'm sure there were chances for her to touch, smell, and hear him, too, because the marketplaces where he worked were always crowded and would have let her blend in. See, Veela sicken when there's prolonged separation from their mates. It's because they're creatures who live in the now and thrive on sensory input—touch, sound, sight, taste, scent. It's what they need to achieve happiness and to stay healthy."

"Oh," she said. Well, that explained his touching her and trying to convince her to kiss him, even if it was only in this freaky dream world. Clearly, his Veela needed... stimulation of any kind, or else he'd suffer.

"Yeah."

"I take it your ancestor eventually caught her, though, since you said he killed her."

Scorpius nodded. "See, at first, Theodosis didn't care that she was gone with the sprog, but then ten years went by and he never married or had another child with any of the women he bought for...private entertainment. By that time, my ancestor was a grey-headed geezer because he'd never properly mated the Veela. He didn't let Daneetzah mark him, so he didn't benefit from the prolonged life that comes with the Veela mating package. Also, because his magic had been shut off from him, his health and lifespan were greatly reduced and he was more Muggle by then. At that age, during that time period, he was considered ancient. He knew his only heir would be the child he'd conceived with his Veela mate. So, to prevent his line from dying out, Theodosis had to do the absolute unthinkable: he'd have to accept the half-breed child as his, give it his name, and raise it with the lie that it was a pure-blood human wizard."

"What...what a hypocritical bastard!" Rose replied, indignant on behalf of poor, neglected Daneetzah, who'd had to give birth to the child on her own and probably had struggled in poverty, alone, to raise it.

It was then that it struck her: Veela were as trapped by their biology as their mates. They really had little choice in the matter as well.

Suddenly, Scorpius' claims and his persistence to pursue their relationship made a lot more sense, and although she didn't want to sympathize with him, Rose found herself doing so.

"Yeah, he was that and more," Scorpius agreed. "Theodosis tracked down his Veela mate fairly quickly, only in a matter of weeks, using his wealth and the contacts he'd made selling his blackmarket herbs on the streets. When he finally caught up with her, he walked right up to Daneetzah and stuck a dagger in her chest, then tore her son from her arms and claimed it as his."

"Oh, my god. How horrible." Rose trembled at the imagery. Murdered by the one person in the world you were meant to love...

"Daneetzah had her revenge on him, though," he said. "As she lay mortally wounded, she hurled a final curse at her mate with her dying breath: all heirs in his bloodline, starting with their own son when he reached his twenty-fifth year, would share her 'Veela's pain' until they learned to be worthy of a Veela's love. She sealed the enchantment with the blood of her wound and then died."

God, it seemed unreal. How could someone be so evil? She wondered.

A Death Curse... That was what was responsible for the Malfoy family's unhappiness. Everyone knew such spells were the most horrific type of magic imaginable, used only by the most depraved or vengeful people, as their effects required a human sacrifice, and bound the souls of the spell caster and the one cursed in perpetuity, preventing them from passing beyond the Veil. Their trapped souls would remain restless, inimical spirits in constant pain, unable to find rest until the curse was reversed—if such a thing was even possible.

"After she died, Theodosis adopted and renamed his nine-year-old boy," Scorpius continued. "He called him 'Lycinus Black', and he spent the next decade and then some convincing his only son all about his heritage as a member of an elite family of pure-blood wizards living in France, reliving those 'glory days'...and beating those same ideals into the son he simultaneously resented for being a half-breed. As a result, Lycinus grew up hating his father."

A homicidal mate  _and_  an abusive, deceitful father. Truly, this Theodosis Black was the most vilest wizard to have ever walked the earth, Rose thought. Being called a man of 'bad faith' hadn't been nearly enough to describe him.

"I hope he tore the man's heart out when he grew up," she said.

"He might as well have," Scorpius replied with smug satisfaction. "Years later, as Theodosis lay on his death bed from illness, Lycinus renounced the name 'Black'. He informed his father that the man would die alone and penniless, too, as Lycinus intended on taking all the money Theodosis had made from his herb empire to make his way back to France and to solicit a curse-breaker to get rid of his mother's curse. Nothing would be spent on Theodosis' medicines to prolong his life any further. The stress of that put Theodosis over the edge and he died raving and cursing his son. He swore he'd haunt Lycinus for his treachery, but Lycinus simply laughed at him, took everything he could, and left."

"Good," Rose pronounced. "Justice was served."

"On that end, sure, but not for Lycinus. He never did get rid of the curse."

"Was it just that the curse-breakers back then weren't as skilled?" she wondered.

Scorpius shrugged. "I think the problem was not many people knew about Veela magic, which is as different from wizarding magic as house-elf magic. All I know is this: he took his father's private journals and other belongings and moved to France to start over, and he did hire as many curse-breakers as he could find, from what his own notes say. However, as his first quarter century approached, they hadn't found any way to break the spell, and the best Lycinus could come up with was a ritual we still use today upon our change. It utilizes his knowledge about medicinal herbs, which he'd learned from Theodosis during the years they were together, to create this concoction which relaxes us, so our changed magical aura will open to divining visions of the future. Basically, it was intended to help Lycinus locate his mate fast, so he didn't end up traveling all over the world looking for her, as his mother had his father. I guess it was his contingency plan."

"So, obviously his Veela emerged when he was twenty-five and he found a mate," she said, "Who was she?"

Scorpius nodded. "A daughter of the Flint family. And as twins were common on her side, their first mating resulted in the conception of twin boys, Brutus and Pontus. Brutus is my direct ancestor."

"Was that when Lycinus changed his name to Malfoy?"

"No, that was Brutus. After ditching dear ol' dad, Lycinus simply called himself Nemo, which is Latin for 'no man' or 'nobody'. However, Brutus didn't take that name himself. Turns out, he and Lycinus didn't get on, as he preferred the Flint side of the family. They were big pure-blood supremacists who preached about a complete divorce with the Muggle world and all who associated with Muggles. When Brutus found Theodosis' journals among his father's things, he read them and realized he'd come from pure-blood stock, too. After that, he began to idolize both his grandfathers and eventually took the last name 'Malfoy' in honor of Theodosis' nickname granted him by the French Ministry. He thought what Theodosis had done during the Inquisition was several shades of awesome."

"And his twin?"

"Pontus?" Scorpius shrugged. "The journal only says he followed in his father's footsteps, taking the last name Nemo. He married some witch from Ayrshire. That's all I know about him."

Having exhausted that line of conversation, Rose struggled to come up with another line of questioning. The longer she could keep Scorpius talking, the less chance there was of him putting the moves on her in this dream. She may have learned a lot over the course of their talk, and her feelings towards Scorpius may have softened a bit, but that didn't mean she had any intention of allowing him to magically bind her to him for life. They were virtual strangers, after all, having only recently reconnected after eight years apart, and he had quite the reputation with the ladies, and really, she was still galled by the idea that she had no say whatsoever in who she would take as a husband. Besides, she had no intention of becoming a breeder quite this soon in life, as she still had several years of a Quidditch career left in her.

"Well, that's quite a tale," she said. "There's still so much to know about this whole... process, though, that I have questions about, and I'd really appreciate it if we could talk about those things. For instance, what does mating entail? What are the differences between male and female Veela mating techniques? In what ways, specifically, are Veela and humans different? I know they're a completely different species, like goblins, giants, house-elves, hags, and fairy folk, and that you get a longer lifespan being part-Veela, but just how physically and socially different are they from humans? Are you and your Veela considered a half-breed entity, or are you two entities sharing the same body, like a werewolf? If you could just–"

Unfortunately, Scorpius cut her short. "I know what you're doing, Rose. Stalling until holding onto this dream exhausts me so it won't get any chance for the Veela to be with you won't work, you know."

Rolling to his hands and knees, he quickly began crawling towards her. He moved too fast for her to gain her feet, and was in her face within seconds. "I've missed you," he said in a sexy purr. His gaze dipped to her lips. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about the kisses we shared, or the feel of you in my arms." He slowly reached up, so as not to scare her with the sudden movement, and cupped her cheek. "The memory of your soft moans and your trembling body pressing against mine have haunted me."

His eyes swirled with liquid metal as his Veela came forward once more.

"I remember you, mate," he murmured, that strange conflux of voices lowering, becoming sultry and enticing. "I remember your scent and flavour, and the feel of your tight, soft body wrapped around mine from that night so long ago. I've waited forever for another taste."

Sudden, swift panic shot ice through Rose's veins.

His Veela was free; he was touching her again!

Her heart started inexplicably racing, and as a trapped animal would do while attempting escape, she pushed against him desperately, trying to move him, to create extra distance between them. He countered, however, refusing to be denied, pressing forward and forcing her to lay back into the grass to avoid his kiss. She cried out in fear and turned her head as he swooped down to claim her mouth.

"Scorpius, stop him, please! He scares me! Your Veela scares me!"

As intent as he'd been to seduce her, suddenly, Scorpius' Veela went stock-still. He hovered over her, his hot breath gently blasting against the skin of her throat, causing her to shiver from head to toe. Would he bite her now? Could he, in the dream, mate her against her will?

"You don't need to fear us, mate," he tried to reassure her. "We won't harm you."

She shook her head in denial. "You will," she whispered, feeling hateful tears fill her eyes, brim over hotly down her face. "I know you will. I don't trust you!"

He began shaking, and because she couldn't see his face, she wasn't sure if it was from anger or frustration or emotional hurt. When he turned her head with gently applied pressure to her cheek, she flinched and a fearful whimper escaped her lips.

He paused again, put his hand back down and his head lowered against her neck instead. Sighing heavily against her pulse point, he calmed. "Rose, I...  _we_  don't want to hurt you," Scorpius told her, the Veela momentarily retreating. "We want to win your love freely, not force it from you. Please let us try."

"He scares me, Scor," she whispered the truth, turning her head so their cheeks brushed. "I'll admit that it's okay being with you, but I don't like  _him!_ "

Leaning back, he looked down upon her, his eyes bleeding back to normal, the shadows and harsh angles retreating from his face. "This is going to sound mad, but what if we struck a deal with him—offered him something to keep him satisfied so that we could have time to date properly? I know you're attracted to me Rose, and you know that it's more than reciprocated. Other relationships have started on less." His fingers made a second attempt to touch her and this time, she didn't feel the need to wince or move away. Scorpius was feather-light in his caress of her cheek. "We bribe him to appease his lusts, and that'll give us time to ease into this relationship, to have fun and enjoy each other, rather than constantly be worried about him scaring you with the threat to immediately claim you."

She was insane for even considering it, but the idea had merit. At least it was something they could talk about. At this point, she'd grab onto any insane plan to keep the Veela from continually harassing her. It was bad enough she'd been having more and more nightmares lately, but she just knew by instinct alone that  _he_  was the cause of them.

"Bribe him how, exactly?"

He glanced to the side, seemed to focus inward. In a blink, the Veela was back and this time, in full control. Scorpius' face changed in an instant, his hair lengthening, his eyes going dark and more feral. His shirt was gone, and bare-chested he lay atop her, his beautiful white wings with blackened tips unfurling behind him to spread wide in a lazy stretch. Staring down at her with those mercury-coloured eyes, his platinum-blond hair framing his incredibly handsome face, and a body of beautifully-sculpted muscle, he seemed like an angel fallen straight from Heaven.

He scared the living shit out of Rose for a reason she couldn't at all explain, not rationally anyway. It was instinctual, uncontrollable.

"I agree to the idea of a bargain if it will give me a chance to touch you regularly without you screaming your head off," he stated, sounding put out by her dislike of him. "Name your terms, mate."

Rose tried hard to quell the quaking of her limbs, realizing what a compromising position she was currently in, quite literally: Scorpius was lying across her in a very sexual pose, the muscles of his shoulders and arms corded and holding him up with a strength that tempted her to reach out and touch it, just to feel in wonder the power held in check under the flesh. She clenched her hands to keep from making such a mistake.

"You wouldn't be willing to take a different mate, would you?" she hoped, forcing herself to look into his eyes rather than at the gorgeous display of skin so enticingly offered before her.

Scorpius tilted his head, the movement rather raptorish. "No."

That one word dashed her enthusiasm for compromise. "I don't love you, though! I don't want you!"

The Veela merely blinked once at that declaration. "Tell us what you need to accept the mating and we'll negotiate with you for it."

"But I don't want anything from you," she stubbornly refuted, pushing on his shoulders to dislodge him from pinning her down. "I don't want to be your mate!"

His eyes burned hot with irritation at her pronouncement. He lowered his face until he was less than an inch from her lips, his hands on her shoulders effectively holding her down with minimal effort. His eyes swirled with lust and anger, and his skin glowed with an unnatural pearlized sheen. "Why are you punishing me? I've done nothing to harm you, and you push me away as if I'm some sort of rapist," he growled, his voice a solo, deep baritone, Scorpius' voice no longer part of the mix.

Was this the real Veela, then—the monster hidden under the man's skin?

"You'll want for nothing as my mate, I swear it. I'm even giving you a chance to make it easier to accept what's going to happen between us by naming the terms of our courtship. I'm giving you everything I can."

He was back in her face again, and a deep rumble echoed in his throat.

"But you're trying my patience, mate. Do you think I don't smell our cousin all over you— _inside_  you?" He snarled, and it was a lion-like sound of anger. "You're lucky I haven't ripped Corwin's throat out for daring to touch you."

She stilled instantly, every nerve in her body taut with horror and alarm. It was in this moment that she realized just how deadly a game she'd been thrown into, and that Scorpius' Veela wasn't really playing by the same rules. In his eyes, she saw the truth: he  _would_  kill Corwin, and without losing any sleep over it.

"You're being hypocritical," she stated very matter-of-fact, rallying behind logic to keep from being totally intimidated to the point of surrender. "I don't know who you're with, but I know you're sleeping around, too. You want fidelity from me, but I notice you won't promise it back." Now she was getting angry. She let her righteous indignation at this whole awful situation fuel an almost reckless bravado as she sneered back at him. "I won't end up enslaved to you like Daneetzah was to Theodosis, watching him parade around a bunch of woman while she was denied everything. What kind of…mate…do you take me for?"

The Veela stared at her evenly for several long seconds, and then his lips twitched with amusement. "That fiery, stubborn temper of yours gets me hard, you know." He bent at the elbows again and brought his mouth over hers, gently nipping at her bottom lip. "Alright, I won't be with any other partner sexually, so long as you agree to the same. Is that your only condition?"

Shit, he'd just turned it all around on her! He'd managed to get her to go against her own resolve by prickling her pride. Fuck! Manipulating bastard!

"Well?" he prodded. "Shall I take that to be the only concession standing in the way of mating you tonight?" he mercilessly teased, continuing to place small kisses over her chin and jaw. "Can we get down to the love-making then? I really want to try it out."

Resolutely, she shook her head.

His tongue peeked out and lapped once over her lips. "Then what more do you want? Now's not the time to be shy, Rose."

"Back off and give me a second to think, will you?" she demanded, while pushing against his shoulders again, finding it difficult to concentrate when he was successfully arousing her, despite her fear.

Adhering to her request, he pulled his mouth away from hers, leaned over her and waited, his mocking smile irritating her in its fake attempt to appear congenial.

"Fine, we'll keep meeting like this," she conceded, "but I don't want you to be near me—only Scorpius."

The Veela shook its head. "No avoiding me, mate. That's non-negotiable."

"Half, then," she countered.

He tilted his head again, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Agreed. Half of each meeting you will spend with him alone, the other half with me. We'll meet at least three times a week in the dream world, and once in real life out on a real date, for the whole world to see us together."

"With Scorpius as referee during those times," she offset the deal. "I don't trust you not to try something without him to stop you."

The Veela actually smirked. "Agreed, so long as I get to fool around with you during those times we're together. That's also non-negotiable. I want a physical relationship with you, mate."

Rose blanched, and her heart clenched in fear as she fully understood then what this bargain was all about: to keep the Veela from raping her outright, she was going to have to schedule exactly how much of her body to whore out to him at a time. The idea made her positively sick.

"Alright, but I set the pace. If I say, 'no,' you respect that and stop."

His smirk grew wider. "Agreed, so long as I can give you the First Mark exactly two weeks from today. In person, not in the dream world."

She swallowed down the thick lump that had formed in her throat and reluctantly nodded. At least she would have that time to get used to the idea. "Agreed, so long as you don't try to force the other two Marks on me."

His chuckle was positively sinful. "Agreed, so long as you agree that at the end of a month-long courtship, you'll let me mate you fully—which includes giving you the Second and Third Marks. You'll give yourself to me willingly and fully at that time. You won't fight it."

That requirement brought everything to a screeching halt.

Closing her eyes, she fought back that sense of helpless frustration that swamped over her control, leaving her panicked and scared again. One month. Four short weeks. If she agreed to this, she would have to give up her search for a way out of the mating. She'd have to give up Corwin and the dream of being his wife that had just begun to worm its way into her heart. But then, the Veela never had any intention of letting her go from this mating, nor of allowing her to pursue a romance with Corwin. He'd made that perfectly clear at the beginning of all of this, hadn't he?

Putting her hands over her face, she began crying. "I refuse to do this," she whispered around a sob. "I won't sell myself off to you! I don't care if you hate me for it, but I won't be bullied like this!"

The Veela would not allow her even the privacy of a moment's cry. His hands pulled hers from her face, the grip strangely gentle. "Bargain with me and you'll enjoy it, pretty mate. I promise." His lips parted over hers, teasing, tracing them. "It won't hurt this time. I'll make you burn with pleasure instead. Let me show you."

A rich, sweet flavor engulfed her senses as he pressed his kiss deeper into her mouth, and somewhere in the back of her still-cognizant mind, Rose knew that he was using Veela pheromones against her, saturating the air about them with the fragrance, drenching his mouth in his unique chemical flavor and sharing that intoxicating high with her with every surge of his tongue.

Warning bells went off, telling her to pull away, to fight the kiss, but her limbs simply refused to answer the call. Lethargy set in as Scorpius' bestial side utterly enthralled her, relaxing her into his seductive foreplay. He tasted like…

"Chocolate strawberries," she sighed in pleasure, her tears and sorrow and fury somehow simply forgotten in an instant.

Humming in approval, she tangled her tongue with his in a sensual, writhing dance that had them both moaning, her body unconsciously rubbing against his as the need within began to pulse and grow.

"More," she breathed the plea as he made to let up. "One more kiss."

Soft fingers petted her hair. The Veela rubbed his cheek to hers, scent marking her, and she arched against him as her body sought relief from the rush of heat that passed through her, igniting her blood.

"A few kisses and you see how you desperately want me, baby?" he tenderly whispered. "That's not even a quarter of what I could offer you. I could make you climax over and over again until you were floating on clouds of ecstasy for days."

He rubbed his pelvis against hers in demonstration. Her short dress was shoved up, exposing the white cotton knickers underneath. Her hips instinctively ground back against him, and subconsciously, she noted how large his erection was behind his jeans as it slid between her covered thighs.

God, he was  _big_!

"Bargain with me, my mate," he continued the slow, humping glide. He kissed her softly on the lips, a quick, wet pull. "Agree to the terms we've lain out and Scorpius will be right: we'll all get what we want. Say 'yes', my beautiful Rose."

Her mind caught in a fog of desire, she nodded quickly, desperate to get back to the snogging. "Whatever you want. Just... kiss me again, please!"

With an easy push-up, the Veela disconnected their bodies and climbed to his feet. Looming over her disheveled form, his wings spread wide, blocking the imagined sun so she wouldn't be blinded by it. She was, however, intently aware of the huge bulge behind Scorpius' jeans from this angle.

A naughty smile painted his lips as she glanced down at her. "You're going to have to wait, baby. See you tomorrow night."

With that, he dissolved upon the artificial wind.

**X~~~~~X**

Rose immediately came awake in her bed back in her flat, her heart thumping wildly, her body moist and tight with need.

"You bloody bastard!" she hissed into the darkness, her fingers already trailing between her thighs to stroke her aroused body, to ease the need burning there. "You tricked me again!" she whispered as she closed her eyes and reached for her orgasm.

Her memories of Scorpius and his Veela's kisses, feeling their touch, tasting them again filled her up and spilled over her.

"Scorpius!" she cried out and came hard with only a few strokes over her swollen, wet clit.

Panting in the aftermath, sticky and overheated, her anger and resentment simmered. He'd tricked her using his Veela wiles! He'd actually managed to get her to beg!

She shifted, grumpy and wanting to go back to sleep and not think about it anymore... but then the sheets rubbed just right against her tight, aching nipples, sending electric tendrils of arousal shooting into the warm heart of her again. In an instant, she had her thighs spread and her fingers buried deep inside her wet sex, pumping through her slick, hot flesh as a desperate arousal swamped her senses once more.

 _I won't give in,_  she promised herself, even as she climaxed two more times to the fantasy of Scorpius and his Veela driving hard and fast into her desperate body, filling her again and again with their creamy, warm seed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Montrose Magpies are home-based in Montrose, Scotland. 
> 
> Yes, Ringo's is a blatant homage to The Beatles. 
> 
> The Ottoman Empire in the mid-16th century outlawed cannabis imports because Egyptian hemp growers along the Nile led tax revolts, and they saw that those high on the drug were often disrespectful to the Ottoman Sultan and his government. The illegalization, however, had the negative effect of creating a black market trade in the drug, however, and because it could not be taxed any longer, a loss in significant revenue for the Empire.
> 
> Brutus Malfoy is one of the few Malfoy ancestors JKR officially talks about. He was a pureblood supremist living in the 17th century. Since not much is known about his childhood, I made it all up to fit with this fic.
> 
> Theodosis Black, Daneetzah, Lycinus Malfoy and Pontus Malfoy are made-up characters for this fanfic.


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